Tales of Harmonia
by Elrundir
Summary: One thousand years after the events of Tales of Symphonia, the world finds itself under the burden of a foretold doom and an ancient evil. A band of heroes will stand against destiny to save the world from eternal darkness.
1. Papal Pilgrimage

**Tales of Harmonia**

**Papal Pilgrimage**

It was a lazy day for Aidan Wolfe, despite the hullabaloo engulfing the rest of the village of Malachite. The citizenry was in a complete uproar because the Pope himself was coming to visit their village on his pilgrimage throughout the world to spread and reinforce the teachings of Martel. Aidan, however, did not share their excitement: the stringent policies of the Church of Martel, the boring theology lessons, the hideous church clothes worn every week to mass… he, like most children his age, wanted nothing to do with it. The Pope, to Aidan, was an old man spouting 'truths' which held little interest for him; still, he recognized the man as the spiritual leader for their world, Aselia. Because the Pope brought hope to so many, Aidan could respect him for that.

It was for that reason that Aidan was somewhat exicted at the news that the Pope was coming to visit them. Of course, nobody could possibly escape the frenzy entirely: even the stray animals in the village seemed agitated by all the commotion. Aidan was simply glad because, for one, this meant having a day off of school, and for another, it was something different; Malachite was a dreary little town where very few noteworthy things ever happened.

A voice rang through the house, startling Aidan and waking him from his reverie on his windowsill. "Aidan! Get down here!" the voice bellowed. It was his mother. She, more than anyone else in his family, was excited about the papal visit, as she was the most devout of them all. In fact, in the week since the Pope's visit had been announced, she had grown increasingly more fanatic, to the point where Aidan's father worried (in secret) about her sanity, and couldn't wait for the papal visit to come and go.

However, in her current state, Aidan knew that it was best not to push her too much. He stood up from his seat by the window and stretched his tall body to get his muscles working. Wisps of brown hair ruffled as he slammed the window shut, just barely closing out the sounds of the outside world. Grabbing his spear from the wall by his bed and strapping it to his back, the boy ran down the stairs to see his family waiting by the door.

"Aidan!" his mother cried in shock, looking him over. "What are you wearing!"

Aidan grimaced. He had completely forgotten that she had wanted him to wear something 'appropriate' for the Pope's visit. She didn't want him looking like a 'ragamuffin' before the spiritual leader of Aselia. However, Aidan did not share her enthusiasm or her views, so he had completely forgotten to change into his best attire. He was still wearing the light chain mail of the Village Guard, and a pear of sturdy leather pants along with a bulky pair of black boots on his feet.

"And why on earth are you bringing _that_ thing?" she exclaimed, pointing at the spear on her son's back.

"I'm a Village Guardian, mom. I'm supposed to keep this with me," he explained for what seemed the thousandth time. "Anything can happen, especially with the Pope visiting."

His mother was not pleased with his explanation, as evidenced by her chastising look, but she shook her head and sighed after a few unpleasant moments. "It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter! He'll be here any minute now and we simply don't have time for you to change. Come on, come on! Everyone out!" With a few brisk waves of her hand, the portly woman ushered Aidan, his father, and his sister out the door before slamming it shut and locking it behind her. "We simply cannot be late for his arrival. Let's get to the village square. Come on, then, on the double!"

Aidan felt much more like a soldier marching in formation than a boy about to meet the spiritual leader of the world for the first time. By now, several other families had joined them and were also heading towards the town square. Many of them were squabbling excitedly. Aidan merely folded his hands behind his head and walked as though he hadn't a care in the world.

By the time they reached the village square, it was already beginning to fill up at a rapid pace. The square itself was rather plain: it was, as the name suggested, an actual square carved out in the ground. Four roads led into it from the north, south, east, and west, and a few little shops dotted its perimeter, as did the city hall. Today, however, these shops were all shut and locked tight, and every available space was being used by gawking civilians.

Although Malachite itself was not a large village, people from neighbouring towns were also filing in to meet their spiritual leader, and so the square was filling up quickly. Aidan's mother had had the foresight to come early, so they were able to get a perfectly comfortable spot near the front of the crowd. Of course, she had exaggerated when she said the Pope would be here "at any minute": it was in fact two hours of boredom in the blistering heat before Aidan saw any sign of the head of the Papal Entourage.

During this time, Aidan found himself with very little to do. Normally he would chat with his friends while waiting, but as they were all in the Village Guard as well, they were doing their duty by vainly attempting to hush the crowd and keep an eye out for neer-do-wells. Aidan was also halfheartedly trying to keep the crowd quiet ("_Hardly work fit for a Village Guardian_," he thought), but he knew that it was a lost cause so he was hardly devoting much of his attention to it. Instead, he was keeping his eyes locked primarily on the road to the north, from which the Papal Entourage would come to greet them. It was a dusty road like all the rest, with nothing particularly worth mentioning about it, except that at the end of the path you could just see the village gate, and the great forest extending beyond that.

Suddenly, through a sunbeam breaking through the leafy canopy of the forest, Aidan thought he saw a faint glimmer. In another few moments, he was sure: the Papal Entourage had arrived. Clad in their tell-tale green-and-silver armor, two of the hulking Papal Knights marched smartly along the path. A horse-drawn carriage could be seen behind them, decorated lavishly with red tapestries; Aidan knew that the Pope was inside.

By this time, of course, the rest of the village had caught sight of the entourage as well, and those who had not had indeed heard the cries of the rest of the citizens, and began to get swept up in the commotion themselves. All the Village Guardians had given up trying to quiet the crowd now, because it was physically impossible to be heard over the teeming masses.

It took only a few minutes for the entourage to pass through the open gate and enter the village. The cavalcade swept regally into the square and turned to the left, exposing its flank to the bulk of the citizenry. Aidan could see that the Pope had only brought four Papal Guards with him: the two he had seen in front, as well as two in behind the carriage. _That's weird_, he thought. _He's way more important than that, right?_ Perhaps the Pope had a lot of faith in the Village Guard of Malachite. Still, Aidan thought he certainly wouldn't trust a town militia to protect him if he were the Pope.

Slowly, a grand wooden door on the side of the carriage was opened, and a short, balding, but attractive gentleman stepped out. He was immediately recognizable as the Pope, even though many people had never had the chance to actually see him before. His robes, magnificently coloured green and gold and very uncomfortable-looking, as well as the miter on his head and the diamond-encrusted crosier in his right hand, gave away his identity immediately. He was met with cheering and clapping, which he quelled almost instantly with a simple wave of his hand and a warm smile. Aidan was impressed; with a couple of gestures, the Pope had managed to do what the entire Village Guard had failed.

"Greetings, people of Malachite," the Pope said in a very warm, regal voice. Aidan had never heard the Pope speak before, but he could tell even now that he was a gifted orator. "I, Pontifex Nigellus XVII, greet you. It gives me great pleasure to be here, speaking before you today."

_A bit pompous_, Aidan observed, _but he sure is good._ Faced with the Pope's comforting, flattering words, Aidan felt himself relax a little. He leaned on his spear, which he had propped up beside him, and listened to the man's speech. It was filled with the usual religious propaganda: go to church, keep close the tenets of the Church of Martel, beware those that would undo the church's teachings, and so on and so forth. Aidan was less interested in the words than in the way the Pope was able to command such awe and respect simply by speaking.

It was for this reason that Aidan neglected the heads now swimming through to the front of the crowd.

It all happened in an instant. Five people leapt out of the crowd. Four men, one woman. The highly-skilled Papal Guards cut the Pope's speech short and ushered him back into his carriage, but they were swiftly dealt with by the armed men and woman attacking them. By now, the Village Guardians had leapt into action amidst the screaming of the people, and they were fiercely doing battle with the strange assassins. Aidan, of course, did not stay behind: this was the chance he was looking for, to prove himself to everyone.

He saw that the female assassin, a tall, beautiful woman with black hair tied behind her head and wearing a long, unusually-tight blue dress with a slit down the front-middle to allow movement, had managed to open the door to the carriage and was grabbing at the Pope to remove him from it. Aidan immediately went for her: he leapt forward and summoned all his strength, burying the blunt end of his spear into her backside. The woman stumbled against the side of the carriage, letting out a cry of agony. She quickly let go of the Pope and spun around to see her aggressor.

Face to face with her, Aidan could see that this woman's eyes were beautiful, but frighteningly-determined. They were narrowed in anger towards him, and although she did not appear to be have a weapon, he was strangely frightened by her. "Get out of here," she commanded in a striking voice. "Back away. You don't have to die here. Let us complete our task and we will leave your village in peace forever."

Aidan brandished his weapon and smirked. "You must be kidding. Even if you leave the village alone, killing the Pope will do anything but leave us in peace." Even now he could picture the political and emotional backlash of such treason. Aselia might never recover from such a travesty, and if he could do anything to prevent it, he would.

"We have no intention of killing the Pope," the woman noted with a bit of an amused chuckle. She crossed her slim, bare arms across her chest and looked away from Aidan.

"So you came at him armed and ready to kill his guards. Right."

"Look," she snapped, turning her fierce gaze back to him. "I don't have to reason with you. You will get out of my way, one way or another."

Aidan stepped forward, trying to meet her gaze of determination with one of his own. He failed, but came quite close. "You leave," he whispered ominously. "I won't let you get away with this."

The assassin curled her lip and drew something from behind her back. Assuming it to be a weapon, Aidan hopped back and readied to defend himself. He lowered his guard, however, when he realized that she had pulled out, of all things, a flute. The device was carved out of black wood, and on one end it had a beautiful rose made of silver. "That's your defense? A musical instrument?" Aidan was stunned.

He was even more stunned, however, when the assassin hopped forward with her flute brandished threateningly in her right hand. She spun around with the agility of a cat, and the flute came hard across his cheek with a deafening crack. The woman continued to spin, and this time her leg extended underneath him, catching his heel and tripping him up before he even knew what was going on. That same foot, concealed in an attractive high-heel shoe, stepped forcefully on Aidan's throat. He felt that the heel would puncture his airway if he didn't think quickly.

"You had your chance, brat," the woman said. "You had your chance, and you threw it away. Time to—"

She paused briefly, feeling something behind her. Looking back, she saw Aidan rubbing her thighs with his hands like a horny schoolboy. She looked shocked and appalled, and turned back to him. "What the hell do you think you're doing!"

But Aidan wasn't so much a horny schoolboy as a schoolboy with a plan. That moment of shock had loosened the assassin's grip on his neck, and he was able to throw off her foot and roll a safe distance away to where his spear lay on the ground, knocked from his grasp during the attack. He grabbed it, righted himself, and brandished the weapon to face her anew.

"You're pretty hot," Aidan said with a roguish grin. "It's a shame you have to die for treason. We'd have been good together."

This infuriated the woman even more, and she charged at him with her weapon drawn once again. This time, Aidan felt ready for her. When she spun at him with her flute, he grasped his spear with his two hands far apart from each other, and held the weapon perpendicular to hers, preventing it from contacting him. Then he pushed it away and spun, driving the foot of the spear deep into the woman's stomach. He was trying not to kill her, if at all possible: the intent of her actions needed to be discovered.

Behind him, for he was now facing away from the assassin, he could hear her coughing and sputtering, and he knew that his attack had hit home, driving the air from her lungs. Aidan could tell that she was quick, but not very accustomed to taking hits, and so if he could carefully aim his attacks to hit her vital spots, he would be able to incapacitate her easily enough. As well, he simply had to prevent her from hitting his unprotected flesh, namely his face. Her flute would no doubt be unable to cause any harm to his chain mail armor.

"Pretty clever, boy," she chuckled as she regained her ability to breathe. "But you're playing in the big leagues, now. If you think your sad little militia training is going to stop my mission, you're sorely mistaken."

The assassin began her attack anew. She ran towards Aidan and pretended to spin, the same way she had done before; he instinctively brought his weapon up to guard against the attack from the side. However, halfway through the spin, the woman turned back the other way until she was facing Aidan again, and this time she thrust the head of her flute into his stomach. As expected, Aidan felt very little pain from the attack, but the force of her strength did unbalance him a little, throwing off his ability to guard.

After having staggered her opponent, the woman stepped around him, taking advantage of the moment in which he had no chance of blocking her. She slammed the length of the flute hard against the back of Aidan's skull, and he was momentarily blinded by the pain, staggering forwards helplessly. The assassin turned her back to him, and then extended her arms and kicked back with her right leg, balancing herself only on her left. The heel of her shoe dug into Aidan's spine, and he was sent flying another few feet forward, where he collapsed on the ground, awash in pain and agony.

"You're no match," she gloated without facing him. "I don't see the need to kill you now. You've wasted enough of my time already. I'll just take my prize and be on my—"

As she turned around to face the Pope's carriage, however, she saw that Aidan was standing up again. He was clearly in pain, half-leaning on his spear to keep himself upright, but his eyes told her that he was willing to fight to the death to stop her from achieving her goals. The woman smiled and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, letting out an amused chuckle.

"I don't understand your resolve. You protect a man with dark secrets, whom you have never even met before. Aselia will find another Pope – and it will want to, after we reveal him for what he really is."

Aidan was slightly bemused. What was she talking about? Dark secrets? What could possibly be bad about the Pontifex of the Church of Martel? He is, by definition, the holiest of the holy, Martel's chosen representative in Aselia. It seems unthinkable that he would have a dark past, or anything of the sort. He wouldn't have been selected if he did.

"I can see you're confused," she said darkly, shaking her head. "I don't have time to explain. Since you clearly won't surrender, I'll have to finish you here and now. I can't let anything stand in the way of the truth."

The woman charged again. Aidan could see the attack coming, but he was powerless to do anything to stop it. She was too fast, and he was too tired. "**Destruction Dance!**" she cried, nearing her foe and preparing the kill.

_Crack. Crack. Crack._ Three times her flute slammed against his face, battering his flesh and breaking his bones. She spun, and hit him with the momentum of the turn. In what seemed like the same instant, she leaned forwards and brought her right heel up to connect with Aidan's chin, sending him flying into the air. Quickly and skillfully, she righted herself, and brought the black flute to her lips. "**Let me play you my symphony.**" Her voice seemed to echo ominously through the air and she began to play a tune. The song called raw energy out of nothingness, which attacked Aidan mercilessly as he was suspended in the air. The next thing he knew, he was falling again; but before he even hit the ground, Aidan was swallowed by murky blackness.

---

Aidan awoke in the most comfortable of beds, wrapped in warm sheets and with a fluffy pillow under his head, which was still pounding terribly. It took several moments before he could recall what had just happened. That last thing he remembered was being pummeled by the assassin's attack… but now he was in a comfortable bed. Had it all been a dream? He sat up and looked around.

He was certainly not in a familiar place. From the looks of things, he was in some sort of castle or compound: the walls were unfriendly stone, decorated with some tattered tapestries placed side-by-side with torches to light the room. It was unlike any place Aidan had ever visited before. Looking around, he could see a strange, hulking man sitting not far away, staring right back at him.

"So, you're awake." His voice was gruff and unfriendly. The expression on his face told Aidan that he didn't enjoy his presence here. The figure reached over and pressed a button on a strange device on the table he was sitting at. A ghostly figure erupted from the device, which Aidan immediately recognized, with a twinge of fear, as the assassin.

"Yes?" she demanded with a slightly annoyed look.

"The captive is awake, mistress," the man bellowed obediently. The holographic assassin turned and looked in Aidan's direction. She gave a quick smile and nodded.

"Right. I'll be right there." The hologram wavered suddenly, and she was gone again.

Aidan swung his legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand up, but realized he was in far too much pain to do so. "Get back in bed," the gruff man ordered, standing up. Appreciating that he was in no condition to deny the man in this state, he complied with the order and crawled back into the comfortable bed.

It wasn't long before the familiar visage of the assassin appeared in the doorway to Aidan's left. She gave a curt nod at the bulky man who had been watching him, and he shuffled out behind her to end his shift. Meanwhile, the assassin moved toward Aidan's bed and sat on the edge of it. He couldn't help but recoil slightly.

"You know, you've been a rather large annoyance," she said quietly, looking deep into his eyes. She didn't seem as mean or dangerous now, but that did nothing to quell Aidan's fear. "But I'll give you the chance to make it up for me."

Aidan was visibly shocked by her words. _What? But… she wanted to _kill_ me! _He stared into her eyes for a long moment, trying to pick out some hint of maliciousness in her tone, something that hinted that she wasn't really giving him a second chance at life so much as offering him another form of death. "What… do you mean?"

The woman stood up, closed her eyes, folded her arms, and giggled quietly. She stepped away from the bed. "You, sir," – her head snapped back, her eyes locking with Aidan's – "are going to help me recapture the Pope."


	2. Secret Passages

**Tales of Harmonia**

**Secret Passages**

"What? You've got to be kidding me," Aidan blurted, incredulous at the proposition his captor had just made. "I just risked my life trying to save the Pope, and you expect me to help you capture him?"

The woman nodded her head very simply, as though explaining a fact of life. "Yes. That's exactly what I expect you to do."

Aidan let out a short, strained laugh; his lungs still had not fully recovered from the beating he had taken at this woman's hands earlier. "I have just _got_ to hear the explanation for that."

The assassin moved toward the door. Her arms were still crossed, accentuating the look of sheer confidence on her face, as though she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Aidan would come around to her point of view. "What's your name, boy?" The question took Aidan aback, and he almost thought he couldn't remember the answer.

"Aidan… Aidan Wolfe."

"Aidan. You wanted to hear my explanation? Then come to the meeting room. Up the stairs, first door on your left. Whenever you're ready, now…" And then she was gone. The echoes of her footsteps on the stony walls were the only sound to be heard as Aidan sorted out the jumble of feelings in his mind.

His deepest instincts told him not to trust this woman under any circumstances. She was trying to kidnap the Pope, the spiritual leader of the entire world, the most powerful man on the planet. She had – Aidan grimaced at the thought – possibly killed god knows how many of Aidan's friends in the Village Guard. But by that same token, she could have killed him, and yet spared his life. Furthermore, she would probably kill him if he refused to comply with her demands. _Besides… I really want to know what she means about the Pope…_

Fighting off the pain shooting through his body, Aidan struggled to his feet. He realized that he had been stripped of his shirt, and there were several lacerations on his skin that had been treated by healing arts. Aidan couldn't remember where the wounds had come from, however; his upper body had been protected by his chain mail armor during the fight, and the woman wasn't using a weapon capable of cutting the skin. _Maybe those energy bursts from her last attack… what _was_ that, anyway?_

The boy dragged his tired, battered legs across the stony floor. He could feel the coldness of the stone, but it barely registered next to the pain, mingled with his confusion. He was clearly caught up in something far bigger than himself or Malachite, or even the Pope's pilgrimage. He didn't know who these people were, but he was determined to find out what they wanted with the Pope, and more to the point, what they wanted with _him_.

Just getting up the stairs was something of a trial, but by now Aidan's brain was already working feverishly to numb the pain in whatever limited ways it had available, so he was able to move a little more comfortably. Pressing a hand against the wall of the staircase for support, he clambered up the dark, grey steps lit only sparsely by torchlight. When he finally reached the top, he immediately saw the small oaken door on his left. It was unlocked, so he let himself in with only a quick second thought: _Should I trust her?_

The room he entered was rather plain. It was smaller than the room he had been sleeping in, but decorated in much the same fashion, with tapestries hanging from the walls. Now that Aidan was feeling a little more lucid, he recognized the symbol on these tapestries: an angel, descending from Asgard, holding a flower in one hand and a blade in the other. This was the symbol of the Church of Martel. _This building must be owned by the church… where the hell are we?_

The female assassin was seated at the end of a quaint wooden table in the very center of the room. Four others were seated at the table, two on her left and two on her right, and there was a vacant seat on the opposite end which appeared reserved for Aidan. As soon as he had opened the door, the woman acknowledged him with a curt nod and motioned toward the empty seat. He reluctantly accepted and sat down, glancing at the rest of the group.

On the woman's right sat the familiar, hulking mass who had been watching over him while he slept. He had a bushy brown beard and moustache, and was remarkably muscular. He wasn't wearing much by way of armor: just some leather straps across his broad chest, and a pair of leather pants and boots. Aidan thought he could just see the glimmer of a steel ax hanging from the man's waist.

Across from this barbarian sat a chipper young girl. Her auburn hair was cut short, and danced playfully around her delicate features. She wore a French beret, and what Aidan could only describe as some sort of school uniform, comprised of a silken blouse and a plaid kilt around her waist. She was smiling at him rather warmly as he entered, and he immediately felt that he liked her more than any of the others.

On the girl's left was an older gentleman with a long, snowy beard hanging down from his chin and ending somewhere beneath the depths of the table. He was wearing a robe of a strange design that Aidan had never seen before. It appeared to be fashioned out of a rare type of cloth, and the patterns weaved into it, he guessed, were elven. This man's face was also kind, but weary with the trials of a long life.

On Aidan's left was a tall, slim, handsome man with straight black hair which fell almost to his waist, and quiet eyes. He exuded an overwhelming air of complete calm, with his head held high and his hands folded politely on the table. He was clad in violet-and-silver mail, down which his long hair fell effortlessly. As he was closest to Aidan, the boy could see a long katana sheathed on his waist.

Seeing that Aidan had finished examining her comrades, the female assassin finally addressed him. She commanded his attention with a wave of her hand, and spoke. "Welcome, Aidan Wolfe. I am Juna Cartwright, leader of this organization."

"What organization is that?" Aidan demanded, staring her down. She hestitated for a moment, apparently trying to consider the best way of telling him. This only made the boy more nervous. _Who are they that their own leader is worried about telling me?_

"We are… Zephyr," she said after her silence, regaining her composure to examine the boy's reaction. Aidan's eyes shot wide open as soon as the name passed her lips. "I see you've heard of us."

"Zephyr? The vigilante group plotting the destruction of the Church of Martel and its Holy Council of Priests?"

The young girl laughed, a bright, bubbly laugh that somehow immediately quelled Aidan's worries and made him feel like the group's true nature didn't really matter. "'Destruction of the Church of Martel and its Holy Council of Priests!'" She burst into laughter a second time. "I see the rumours have gotten even stronger since we last heard them, Juna!"

The tall, handsome man nodded his head and spoke calmly. "You speak truly. The last I heard, we were only plotting to kill the Pope and elect one of our own in his place. Now we hate the _entire_ council."

Juna was not at all amused. She merely nodded her head and kept her gaze fixed on Aidan. "You have been poisoned by the Pope's propaganda. I don't blame you; you aren't the only one." She could see that Aidan was visibly confused by her words. Juna heaved a sigh and continued her explanation. "Zephyr in no way plots against the church. In fact, we were an organization created _by_ the Church of Martel over a hundred years ago to protect its Pope and Council of Priests."

Aidan's heart skipped a beat. _What?_ he thought. _Not possible! This pagan organization was created _by_ the church to _protect_ it!_

"You're lying," he said after finding the words. "You tried to kill—"

"—We weren't trying to kill him," Juna interrupted, rolling her eyes.

"Fine, you tried to _kidnap_ the Pope, and yet you tell me your organization exists to protect the Church of Martel?" Aidan said incredulously. Juna merely nodded her head.

"Yes," she stated matter-of-factly, "that is exactly what we exist to do. But before I give you that promised explanation, I believe it would be rude to not first introduce my companions."

First, she gestured towards the gruff man on her right. "You have already met Bartheo Walters." Bartheo made no acknowledgement at all, but merely huffed under his breath. Juna did not seem to notice this, and indicated the girl sitting on her left. "This is Audrey Lightfoot." The polite girl smiled and nodded her head in Aidan's direction; he was a little stunned by her kindness compared to the others, but smiled and nodded back. Juna did not pause, and indicated the tall man sitting on Aidan's left. "This handsome gentleman is Raven. Just Raven, as he calls himself," she noted with a hint of a giggle hidden under her breath. Raven closed his eyes and nodded brusquely but did not turn to Aidan. Meanwhile, Juna gestured importantly towards the older man on Aidan's right. "And… I think my fourth companion needs no introduction."

Aidan looked at the man closely. He screwed up his face in thought, trying to picture him from a poster or magazine somewhere, but he could not. The boy looked back at Juna and shrugged his shoulders obliviously. "He a wizard or somethin'? Kinda looks like one." The woman was, for the first time in the evening, truly and visible stunned. Audrey mirrored her emotion.

"You… you don't recognize Genis?"

Aidan's eyes flickered, and he immediately turned back to the old man. "No… no freaking way."

Juna nodded her head with something of a laugh. "Yes 'freaking' way. The man sitting on your right is what you might call a living legend…. Genis Sage, companion of the hero Lloyd, who gave life to Yggdrasill, the Tree of Life."

Her words hung in an awkward silence for what seemed like hours as Aidan could only stare in awe at the old elf. Several times he tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come. _Then… the legends were…true! Lloyd… Genis… the Last Chosen… the false angels of Cruxis…_

Genis nodded his wrinkly head as though he could read everything Aidan was thinking. "Yes, yes, it's all true," he said with a kindly chuckle. "But I'm not surprised few people believe it any more."

"But… but…" Aidan struggled to find the words. "It's been –"

"—one thousand years," Genis finished the sentence. "Very few people now alive remember the events as they truly happened. Even the oldest elves were but newborns when Lloyd forged the Eternal Sword anew and rejoined the two worlds…"

"Then, are any of the others still alive?" Aidan asked. "I mean… I thought it was just a legend… a story they told us in school… but you're…"

Genis shook his head, and bowed his head reverently. "No, no. None of them are left. My elder sister, Raine, passed before me several years ago. The rest of our group was human, and they variously met their ends hundreds of years ago." Aidan could swear he saw the glimmer of a tear fall from Genis' face and melt into his snowy beard.

"But… what about Kratos Aurion? He was an angel of Cruxis, wasn't he? Surely he must still be alive…"

Genis chuckled a little and shrugged. "Kratos always was an enigma to me. And of course, as you know, the legends say – and very truly so – that Kratos left with the deserted planet of Derris-Kharlan to atone for his sins as the surviving member of Cruxis. I cannot say whether he is still alive, or even where in the universe Derris-Kharlan is."

"In any event," Raven interrupted, speaking for the first time; his voice was deep and melodious. "You surely know that Genis was a great asset to the Church of Martel, as were all the Nine Heroes. They exposed Cruxis' misdeeds and destroyed their leader, saving the world from mana deprivation caused by the drifting away of Derris-Kharlan. In doing so, they allowed the church to right itself after being led astray by Cruxis. They caused the World Tree, Yggdrasill, to be reborn when its seed had already perished. Surely you cannot believe that Genis would ally himself with an organization bent on the… how did you put it?... 'destruction of the Church of Martel and its Holy Council of Priests?'"

Aidan didn't want to admit it, but Raven was right. Genis was one of the legendary Nine Heroes of the old world… four lived in the dying world of Sylvarant, four in the thriving world of Tethe'alla, and one on Derris-Kharlan as one of Cruxis' Four Seraphim. Together they saved the world from Yggdrasill's twisted designs. Genis would never try to dismantle everything they worked so hard to achieve, not even a thousand years later.

"Alright," he said after a few moments of silence to allow everything to seep in, "you do have a good point. But why were you trying to kidnap the Pope, then?"

"Because Pontifex Nigellus XVII has gone astray," Genis said mournfully. Aidan was visibly shocked.

"It is the usual side-effect of holding absolute power… corruption comes all too easily," Juna explained. Audrey nodded her head in agreement.

"Our spies within the church tell us that the Pope has scheduled private meetings which nobody, not even his trusted Papal Trinity, is privy to," she explained. "Furthermore, a group known as the Hand of Beatrix has recently been growing in power throughout the land. We don't know much about them. They seem to be a group of bandits, stealing obscure, ancient artifacts from churches and museums and such. However, the church has done nothing whatsoever to stop them, and we haven't a clue why."

Juna nodded her head at Audrey's succinct explanation. "Recently the Hand of Beatrix has become increasingly aggressive in its tactics. Two weeks ago, a village on the eastern continent was attacked, and burned right to the ground. We suspect it was all because of a single artifact housed in its chapel."

Aidan frowned and looked thoughtful. "Two weeks ago… but that was when…"

"When the Pope began his pilgrimage," Raven interrupted with a curt nod.

"Exactly," Juna said. "It's bad enough that the Pope hasn't done anything to stop the Hand of Beatrix, but what's worse is that he actually _left_ the capital in New Meltokio at the same time that they began employing more aggressive tactics. And for what? To spread the teachings of Martel? To tell people to 'be wary' of those who would attack the church? The Papal Army is easily strong enough to crush any military force on the planet, and yet he chooses to do absolutely nothing."

Aidan had to admit that it sounded a bit weird. The Pope and the Council of Priests all had a duty to use their power for the betterment of Aselia, to protect its people from aggression. They had exerted their strength to crush smaller uprisings in the past, and yet now they did nothing. It was a fairly totalitarian method of rule, but (usually) without the attached corruption, and it kept the peace in general. After a while, Aidan said warily, "So… you think… the Pope is in league with this Hand of Beatrix group?" _Hand of Beatrix…that sounds familiar. Where do I know it from?_

Audrey nodded quickly with an uneasy expression on her face. "It seems the most likely explanation. Not only has the Hand of Beatrix gone unopposed, it has actually become more powerful and aggressive lately. We think that the Pope is allowing the group to gain strength in return for their cooperation."

"Cooperation?" Aidan asked. Audrey nodded her head.

"The Hand has no use for the artifacts they're stealing. They couldn't sell them. The church is such a powerful influence that anyone caught with a stolen artifact would be hanged immediately. No merchant would even consider buying them. Even in the black market, buyers as risky as that are few and far between. The items are like hot potatoes, you might say."

"But you said some of the artifacts were stolen from churches… those are already under the influence of the Church of Martel," Aidan observed correctly. "And anyway, if it is the will of the church to have a certain artifact, can't they just take it themselves? Nobody would resist. Why get a shady organization to help them do it?"

Juna nodded her head uneasily. "That's what we've been trying to figure out, to no avail. Unfortunately, we haven't been able to locate a single stolen artifact. Our spies in the capital haven't seen a single one. Either the Pope is hiding them really well in the cathedral, or they're not there at all. We really don't know."

"And, let me guess," Aidan said. "That's where I come in?"

Juna chuckled quietly and nodded her head. "Yes. That's where you come in."

Aidan shook his head and laughed. "But you still haven't explained why you want me. I mean, you look like you're all pretty capable… you've got one of the Nine Heroes, for Martel's sake."

Raven shook his head. His long, black hair swayed from side to side as he spoke. "And do you not think that every one of us is wanted by the church right now? The Pope had us excommunicated as soon as he started his reign, without provocation. That was when we began our investigations."

Realization dawned on Aidan like a light bulb flickering to life. "And I'm an unknown. They won't recognize me. They won't suspect me of working for you." The entire congregation nodded their heads, including the stony Bartheo. "Sorry, but I really don't feel like breaking in to the Glass Cathedral and attempting to kidnap the Pope from under the noses of the Papal Knights."

Juna laughed with amusement and shook her head. "No, no! We don't intend you to kidnap the Pope on your own! Goodness, no!" She laughed again. "You'd be killed before you even entered his chambers, by the Papal Trinity if not by the Papal Knights themselves." Aidan stared at her, either completely confused or just expecting further explanation. It was Audrey that laid out the plan.

"The Glass Cathedral is hundreds of years old," the young girl explained, "and countless priests and Popes have used uncharted secret tunnels to escape persecution. Pontifex Marcus III escaped unexplainably with his life during the horrible Gautrek Uprising two-hundred and thirty years ago, for example. Because no blueprints exist of the Cathedral's layout for safety reasons, we'll need you to focus on finding one – just one – that will allow us to reach the Papal Chambers and capture our target. Once you have verified a secure route, you will rendezvous with us and we will carry out the rest of the mission."

Aidan held out his hands in protest. "Woah, woah, woah. Why do I have to do this? You said you have spies in the capital! Why can't you have one of them scout out secret tunnels or whatever?"

Juna folded her hands on the table in front of her and looked directly at Aidan. "Our espionage network is highly stretched as it is. We can't have too many operatives in New Meltokio at one time. The saying 'safety in numbers' doesn't apply to espionage, Aidan. The agents we have are highly suspect as it is, and we've had to pull out many of them because they've become dangerously close to being found out by the Papal Knights. We can't risk their identities when we're so close."

"So you'll risk an innocent bystander instead," Aidan said, clearly annoyed. Juna sighed and looked away.

"It isn't that. We do trust you" – Bartheo scoffed at Juna's words, but she pretended not to hear him – "and we know you're right for the job. You don't have to do anything particularly dangerous. We aren't asking you to pretend to be a priest or monk or Papal Knight. We'll just plant you in New Meltokio as a tourist. The main hall of the Glass Cathedral is used for masses, but the building itself is quite massive, and tours are held all the time for interested onlookers. You can use that as a starting point. We can't risk using our other agents, because if any of the knights or priests recognized him, the results might be disastrous."

"And what makes you think I'll just go along with this? You did kidnap me, after all."

Genis let out a quiet laugh and pointed a finger accusingly at Aidan. "You can't fool me. I can tell that even now you want to know whether we're telling the truth about all this, and what's really going on with the Pope." Aidan was at a loss for words, and this caused Juna to smile successfully. This is what she had been banking on: Aidan's cooperation due to his own curiosity. Any other organization probably would just kidnap one of his family members and hold them ransom, but Zephyr wasn't about that sort of thing.

After several moments of internal struggling, Aidan couldn't think of a reason to refuse. Well, actually, he could thing of _tons_ of reasons to refuse, but he couldn't honestly do it. He simply had to know the truth. Sure, he didn't care much for religion class in school, but he was a (fairly) faithful follower of the Church of Martel, and a scandal of this level was simply too big to ignore. How could he go home to the quiet village of Malachite after this?

"…All right," he said after a long, awkward silence. "I'll do it." There was a subdued feeling of general merriment from the rest of the group, mingled with their satisfaction, as though they knew he would come to their point of view all along.

"Excellent. You begin immediately. The next tour starts in two hours," Juna announced without hesitation.

Aidan looked shocked. "What? Two hours? But New Meltokio is a good day's journey from here—"

Audrey let out a quick giggle. "We're not in Malachite anymore, silly! We're in an underground compound that the church used to use in times of war. That's why all those tapestries have the symbol of the Church of Martel on them." The girl waved her hand at the four tapestries, one on each wall of the room. Aidan remembered them and nodded in realization. "We're really only about an hour away. Better get moving!"

The boy barely had time to think as he was ushered out of the room by the excited Audrey and the satisfied Juna.

---

Aidan had to admit, he felt very out of place.

He was standing in the entrance hall of the Glass Cathedral, surrounded by a gaggle of gawping tourists armed with guide books and khaki shorts. A pleasant looking young woman stood at the front of the crowd, attempting to catch their attention. "Welcome, everyone!" she announced in a sweet voice. The group hushed instantly and turned to her. "As you can see, we're currently standing in the main hall of the Glass Cathedral."

The tour guide motioned towards the walls, which were painfully unique in their design. The Glass Cathedral got its name because it was, in fact, crafted from a glass-like material on its outer surface, giving it an almost crystalline appearance. The inner rooms of the cathedral were hidden behind normal, stone walls, of course, but it was still a beautiful sight to behold, especially when the sunlight came dancing through the walls, casting electrifying patterns on the floor.

The slim woman was standing on the top of a marble staircase, behind which she explained was the audience chamber in which the Pope met with his people and made the general decisions affecting the land. Aidan paid close attention to her words, trying to pick out any hint that might help him in his quest, but she easily darted around everything he needed to know. All he could gather was that the Pope's private chambers were entirely separate from the audience chamber, and that they might pass by the private chambers if there was enough time. That didn't particularly help Aidan, though, because he needed a _secret_ way into the Pope's room, not the front door.

The group was now being led down a corridor along the edge of the building, and Aidan was listening only half-heartedly to the tour guide's mechanical speech. He suspected that she wouldn't actually mention any of the hidden passages at all, except perhaps in vague conjecture. Therefore, his eyes were locked on the stony walls to his right and the various statues, busts, and artifacts that lay alongside it. Unfortunately, as they were still in the outer perimeter of the building, Aidan could not break away from the group: anyone on the other side of the glass wall could see him poking around the nooks and crannies of the castle, and no doubt the devout citizens of New Meltokio would call the guards on him.

Thankfully, the outer hallway passed by without incident, and the tour guide soon led them down a branching hall, away from the glass wall between them and the outside. This put Aidan on double alertness, because he knew he had to duck behind a statue or into another room or hallway and let the group get further along so he would have time to explore. His prayers were answered in the form of a rather grandiose statue of the previous Pope, Pontifex Nigellus XVI. The man was rather rotund, with a jolly belly protruding out of him and blocking a good third of the hallway (of course, the statue itself was somewhat bigger than life-size). After the guide had finished explaining that this particular Pope was famous for his unwavering strictness on the advances of magitechnology, the group moved on; Aidan pretended to be examining the plaque at the base of the statue interestedly, and when he was certain that nobody was looking, he ducked around to the side of the statue and waited until he could no longer hear the woman's practiced explanations anymore.

"Finally," he whispered to himself, peeking his head out and sweeping the hallway with his eyes. "Time to find this hidden tunnel and get the hell out of here."

As he continued his search, Aidan reminded himself that any hidden passageways would be well hidden, but not _completely_ obscure: they had to be marked in some way so that the priests and Pope would be able to find them and make use of them. Of course, they still had to be obscure enough that nosy tourists – like him – would not find them easily. But somehow Aidan suspected that no tourists before him had really had the same determination to find a secret passage before.

It wasn't before Aidan passed by a bust of Pontifex Gregorius X's wife that he had a flash of insight. He bent over and examined the plaque, and thought back to a history lesson he had sat through not long ago.

---

_The history professor, a tall man in his late thirties with black hair and a short goatee, had just finished writing down his notes on the blackboard, and the class was fervently copying them down as he spoke. "Class, today we're going to discuss Pontifex Gregorius X, who reigned from AC 900 to AC 910," he explained. A few of the students looked up after having finished their writing. "This was an unusually short reign for a Pope. Does anyone know why?"_

_A dirty-blonde haired girl with glasses raised her hand immediately. "Pontifex Gregorius' wife killed him during the night." She had spoken out of turn, but the professor didn't seem to mind; he chuckled and nodded his head._

"_That's correct. His wife, Amelia, stabbed him in the chest while he was asleep," the man elaborated. "Unfortunately, nobody knows why, but there are many speculations. Who can name one?"_

_A boy in the front of the class raised his hand, and spoke when the professor gestured towards him. "I heard that the Pope disapproved of his wife sneaking around the Glass Cathedral and looking for the hidden passageways that are rumoured to exist there. He was constantly trying to stop her from nosing around, because he felt that it reflected badly on him."_

_The teacher nodded his head. "That is one idea. We know that the Pope's wife was a very vain and arrogant woman. Some experts believe she resented the way her husband constantly kept her out of the spotlight, and killed him for it. However, she was never seen after that night: only her dagger, with her fingerprints on it, was found at the scene, buried in the Pope's chest. The door to the Papal chambers is always guarded by two Papal Knights, and after hours not even the Pope himself is allowed to leave. How is it that she managed to escape?"_

_The boy answered again. "Maybe she actually managed to find one of those secret passages?"_

_The professor smiled and nodded again. "The most likely explanation. In fact, some believe that Amelia found many passages in the cathedral, and marked them with various artifacts so that she could locate them later. This makes sense, considering that she often vanished from the cathedral without a trace for hours or even days at a time, and considering that we know she had a big hand in redecorating the building during her husband's reign. Many of those artifacts may remain in the palace to this very day."_

---

Aidan snapped back to reality and looked down at the bust again. Amelia Erif was a sinister looking woman, there was no doubting that; even her bust had the glare of a woman with vicious cogs turning in her mind. The plaque beneath her told about how she murdered her husband in cold blood and then mysteriously escaped the palace. _But, wait… that doesn't make any sense,_ Aidan thought. _Why would they make a bust of her after she was wanted by the entire church? For one thing, she was never seen again, so they wouldn't have had a model for the bust. _He paced back and forth, considering this. _Yes, the bust had to have been made before she left the palace. And considering her affinity for secret passages…_

The boy examined the bust more closely. He could just feel that there was something odd about it, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. _Something about the eyes, the eyes…_He paced back and forth, his eyes locked on hers. Then, suddenly, it came to him. The edges of the left eye were more worn than the right! A casual onlooker might just think of it as a sculptor's mistake, or the result of years of nearly a century of wear and tear, or they might simply overlook it altogether. Aidan, however, knew there was something important there. He reached forward tentatively and pressed the eye with his thumb.

Suddenly, a low rumbling could be heard, and Aidan panicked, thinking that somebody would hear him for sure and come running. Thankfully, nobody appeared at either end of the long hallway before the wall behind the wife's bust slid upwards, revealing a dark, dusty passageway. Cobwebs hung in every nook, and the torches that lined the walls at sparse intervals were not lit, and looked like they wouldn't work anymore. Although it was true that not _every_ passageway in the cathedral led to the Pope's chambers, it was very likely that this one did. Aidan just had a huge feeling that this was the same passage Pope Gregorius' wife had used to escape the cathedral after murdering him.

His hollow footsteps echoed on the dusty walls as Aidan walked for what seemed like hours. The length of this passage – sure to be a _direct_ route to the Pope's room, as opposed to the usual route – made him appreciate just how gigantic the Glass Cathedral was. As he moved on, he gradually became less and less careful; for that reason, he was completely taken off guard when he saw a man standing at the opposite end of the tunnel, holding a door open just a crack, and apparently eavesdropping on something. That wasn't the worst of it, though: Aidan recognized the man as Arthur Theo, Providence of the Papal Trinity.

Aidan didn't know what to do. The tunnel was perfectly straight, so he had nowhere to hide. If he stood there, the man would undoubtedly turn around and see him. As a member of the Papal Trinity, the Pontifex's most trusted generals, Arthur could easily have him put in prison and executed without a second thought. However, Aidan couldn't really run the other way, either: he would be heard in an instant, and hunted down like a dog before he could possibly escape the cathedral.

The thought that had _not_ occurred to Aidan was what Arthur was doing eavesdropping in a secret passage that few people were supposed to know existed. Also, if Aidan's suspicions were correct, this tunnel ended up in the Pope's chambers, and thus Arthur was spying on Pontifex Nigellus XVII.

Before Aidan could even consider this, though, the young man turned around suddenly, a look of shock on his face.

Aidan suspected that the Providence of the Papal Trinity had heard his heartbeat; it certainly felt like it was loud enough to wake the dead. In any event, Aidan froze in place. He knew the game was up. Juna had told him that his mission wasn't particularly dangerous, and yet he was now face-to-face with a person whose power and influence were second only to the Pontifex himself. This was, admittedly, one of the most dangerous positions he _could_ find himself in.

Summoning what little strength he could, Aidan managed to stumble backwards, more sliding his feet along the stony floor than actually walking. Arthur moved forward, his long, golden hair shimmering in the faint light given off by the cracked door at the end of the tunnel. He seemed to be extending his hands. Could he have been trying to calm Aidan down? _No,_ Aidan thought frantically. _He's going to cast a spell… he probably has all kinds of powerful magic… this is it!_ And then, he broke into a run.

He hadn't even moved three feet before he heard Arthur calling out to him. "Please, stop!" _Yeah, right,_ Aidan thought. _Want an easier target, do you?_ "Please! I'm not going to hurt you or turn you in to the guards!" Aidan suspected that the man was lying, even though he was a bishop of the Church of Martel. His voice sounded sincere, but…

Aidan stopped, not fully knowing why. Perhaps he realized that running was futile anyway; if Arthur wanted to, he could easily call the Papal Knights and have him arrested. So, Aidan reasoned, he might as well listen to what the bishop had to say. Arthur finally closed the gap between them, and to Aidan's delight, he made no attempt to attack.

"Thank you," the man said quietly. Now that he was up close, Aidan could really see his features. He was a slender young man, in his twenties. His blue eyes were unusually bright for someone as burdened as he, and they accented his vividly blonde hair very well. He wore simple, but elegant white robes, on which the only marking was a symbol of the church (the same angel as on the tapestries in the Zephyr base) on the robe's right shoulder. "Now… what are you doing in here?"

Aidan swallowed hard. If he were to tell the truth, he would have to admit looking for a secret passage so that Zephyr could use it to kidnap the Pope. There was no way in hell Arthur would allow him to leave the castle after saying something like that. But could Aidan really lie? Would it _work_? Surely a member of the Papal Trinity was far too wise to be taken by such a trick. Aidan decided he would tell the truth, but a 'director's cut' version, if you will.

"I… heard rumours that the Pope is involved in shady dealings," he explained carefully, trying to make himself sound as innocent as possible. "I thought that if I could find a passage to his chambers, I could figure out whether the rumours really were true."

Arthur was silent for a long moment, and looked to be considering the validity of Aidan's claim. He had a kind face, but that only masked his real power and influence in Aselia. "I see. I have many reasons to disbelieve you, but… I am here for that same reason."

Aidan was shocked. "Really?" he blurted. "You suspect the Pope of—"

"Consorting with the Hand of Beatrix? I don't know. But he has been acting oddly lately, and I wanted to find out why."

Aidan still didn't even consider risking Zephyr's secrecy by mentioning them to Arthur now. He would simply continue pretending to be a loner in his endeavour. "So… you were listening to him, just now?"

Arthur shook his head slowly. "I was hoping to, but he wasn't there. I don't know where he is. I know he isn't in the audience chamber… and usually when he has his private meetings, he holds them in his room. But now, he doesn't seem to be anywhere in the cathedral." The bishop sighed and brushed a few strands of golden hair from his face. "He should be here…" he muttered to himself. "The Papal Knights would never let him out of the cathedral after the attack in Malachite…"

Aidan had to agree. If the Pope wasn't safe in a tiny, quiet little village like Malachite, how could he possibly be safe in a large city brimming with political opponents like New Meltokio? The Papal Knights certainly had the ability – and the authority – to stop him from leaving the cathedral if they wanted to, so why would they let him escape now? Did he also use a secret passage? And if he did – why? To meet with more members of the Hand of Beatrix? There didn't seem to be any other reason why the Pope would sneak out of the Glass Cathedral without telling anyone.

"Do you really want to know what's going on with the Pope?" Aidan asked suddenly, snapping Arthur out of his reverie. The bishop nodded solemnly. "Then you have to make me a promise. Anything that happens between now and the time we part ways will not be spoken to anyone."

Arthur looked shocked, and considered this for a while, but eventually nodded his head.

"Good. Then follow me."

Aidan quickly and carefully led the bishop back the way he had come. Arthur closed the secret passage by running a finger along the lips of the bust of the Pope's wife. The pair then exited the cathedral. Since Arthur was a general of the Papal Trinity, none of the knights asked any questions; they simply nodded their heads and gave muffled words of acknowledgement as he passed by them. Aidan was as silent as the grave during their entire journey, and Arthur followed suit. It was only when they passed through the city gates and into the wilderness outside, approaching a caravan tended by hooded strangers, that Arthur stopped and asked, "Where are we going?"

Aidan turned his head. "I hope I'm doing the right thing, but… we're going to see Zephyr."


	3. The Trinity Reunited!

**Tales of Harmonia**

**Providence – Retribution – Judgment: The Trinity Reunited!**

"What the hell is he doing here!" Juna flared, standing from her seat immediately after seeing Aidan walk through the door to the meeting room with one of the Papal Trinity in tow. She slammed her fist on the table, demanding an answer. "Did it occur to you that he's the enemy? That bringing him here is like leading a cat into the mouse hole?"

Aidan looked slightly annoyed. "Hey! First of all, you don't tell me what I can and cannot do!" he retorted, looking every bit as angry as she did. "The _only_ reason I went along with your damned scheme is because I wanted to find out what was really going on!" Juna looked stunned by his forcefulness. She staggered a little, taken aback by his words. "If you think I'm so stupid that I would lead one of the most powerful men into the world right into your base without thinking, then why did you ask me to do this mission?"

"I—I didn't—"

"You know where I met Arthur? Spying on the Pope, or trying to," Aidan explained. "He's trying to do the same thing we are. I thought we could help each other and unravel this mystery together." The group fell silent. Genis opened his mouth to speak, but Aidan thrust out a finger and shook his head. "And I blindfolded him on the carriage ride here. He doesn't know where we are."

The group looked over at Arthur, who seemed a bit shy and nodded his head quickly with an uneasy smile on his face. They couldn't deny that he seemed friendly. Besides, as far as he knew – and it was the truth – they meant no harm to the Pope. They merely wanted to find out what he was dealing in. He simply didn't know how they intended to do that.

"Fine," Juna relented after a while. "Then let's figure out what we're going to do next. I take it you found the passage we need." Aidan nodded his head, and gave Arthur a friendly glance. "Okay. Did you hear the Pope say anything unusual?"

"Well… he… he wasn't there," Arthur said nervously. "In fact, I don't think he was in the Glass Cathedral at all. I checked the audience chamber, and he wasn't there… and so I figured he must be holding one of his private meetings in his chambers, so I snuck into the secret passage and… well… he wasn't there."

"Not in the Cathedral at all?" Raven inquired. "Very odd indeed. I would imagine the Papal Knights would put him under lock and key after the events at Malachite."

Genis let out a laugh. "Ironically, it would have worked out better for us if they had."

Arthur interrupted. "The Papal Knights _do_ have the Pope under lock and key. Not even the tour groups are allowed anywhere near the corridors leading to his chambers. Security in the rest of the cathedral is a bit lax because of their focus on his room, but…"

"So he snuck out?" Juna asked. "I guess his knowledge of the secret passages is better than we thought."

Aidan looked confused. "I thought the Pope was supposed to know all the secret tunnels in the cathedral. I mean, they're there for _him_, right?"

"That's true," Arthur explained, "but each Pope does not always get the full information about the secret passages. You see, it is one Pope's duty to pass his knowledge of those routes on to the next Pope. Usually, when the Pope suspects he is nearing death, he writes a list of the passages he knows and readies it to be given to his successor. However, it does happen that one Pope is murdered, or dies suddenly of illness, or other such things; in these cases, no record exists of the passages, and the new Pope, if he so desires, must find them on his own."

"But why don't they just keep a record of them? I mean, you know, why doesn't one Pope write the note as soon as possible? That way he wouldn't risk dying before writing it."

"The trouble," Juna elaborated, "is that the secret passageways in the Glass Cathedral are both very beneficial and very dangerous to the Pope. They are only useful if he and _only_ he knows where they are. If, at any time, his list leaks out, every secret passage listed there would become compromised. Assassins could lurk in the castle and strike from behind any corner, their entry completely undetected. However, the Pope can similarly use them as avenues of undetected escape when needed – a use exercised many, many times in the history of the church. Therefore, it is beneficial for one Pope to pass the knowledge onto the next, but it is dangerous for any document to exist for too long. The Pope writes it when he thinks he is near death, and passes it on to the next Pope, who reads it, memorizes it, and destroys it."

"That's all very nice," Audrey pointed out, "but what are we going to do? If the Pope isn't even in the cathedral now, we have no clue when he'll be back."

Juna nodded her head and closed her eyes, deep in thought. "Yes, that's true. For now, I think we'll send a small group in through the passage to the Pope's chambers. If he really isn't there, we can snoop around and see if there are any hints as to what he's been doing with the Hand of Beatrix. If he _has_ returned by then, we'll kidnap him as planned."

Arthur stepped forward, a look of shock on his face. "What? Kidnap His Eminence? You must be joking!"

Raven laughed coldly. "You did indeed lead him here blindly, Aidan."

The boy looked apologetic. "I'm sorry, Arthur… I couldn't tell you right away. I couldn't risk having you… you know… tell the Papal Knights and all."

"But… but…" Arthur was flustered. "You can't… what are you going to do with him?"

Juna held out her hand. "I assure you, we intend no harm to the Pope. However, the only way to get any information from him is to interrogate him where he does not have the home field advantage. Once we know what he's up to, we can decide what comes next, and you may part ways with us if you so desire, as long as you assure that you will not tell your comrades about us."

Arthur was uneasy, but nodded. "I have already sworn this. But if you attempt to harm His Majesty with undue cause… I will stop you."

Juna smiled. "Your loyalty is admirable. Let's see how well it holds. We move for New Meltokio within the hour."

Her five companions saluted her and shuffled out of the room, leaving Arthur to wonder what he had gotten himself into.

---

Night was falling on the plains surrounding the gleaming jewel of New Meltokio as the caravan arrived. The world's twin moons, Sylvarant and Tethe'alla, named for the ancient worlds which were fused to form Aselia, shone brilliantly in the starry sky. Under their gaze, seven cloaked figures stepped off the wooden wagon and darted quietly towards the city wall.

"Are we all aware of the plan?" Juna asked in transit. She was answered with six tones of acknowledgement.

The plan was simple. Arthur, Aidan, Juna, and Audrey would follow behind Bartheo, Raven and Genis; the latter group would scout ahead and stand watch within the cathedral, ensuring that the former group's mission went unhindered. They would not have to use the main entrance – now locked, as always after nightfall – because Arthur was familiar with one other secret passage that led into the castle from a cemetery in the western part of the city. He was accompanying them because they needed his knowledge of the castle's layout in order to move as efficiently at possible.

When the group finally reached the city gates, they were not surprised to find them shut tightly. There was no chance of them being opened unless the Pope himself showed up on the other side; not even the Papal Trinity were an exception. They had expected this, however, and thus were unfazed by it. Juna sent a curt nod in Genis' direction; the old half-elf nodded back, and faced a section of the wall a good distance away from the gate. He mumbled something under his breath, and suddenly the very shape of the rock changed. It became jelly-like for a moment, wavering unnaturally in the air, and then shifted completely aside, creating a door for the group to enter through. When they had all safely passed under the eyes of the night watchmen, Genis closed the magical gateway, and they continued on their way.

New Meltokio was a positively gigantic city; many tourists got lost in its winding roads every day, thus necessitating the creation of a faction of the Papal Knights dedicated specifically to sending these befuddled tourists on their way. Arthur, however, had lived in the city all his life, and knew the back streets like the back of his own hand. He expertly navigated the group through a labyrinthine series of alleys and roads, so that it only took them a few minutes before they reached the extreme western edge of the city, and the cemetery that they had been looking for.

Nobody needed to tell him what to do. The bishop made a beeline for a large headstone at the rear of the graveyard, which anyone could tell from its ornate decoration belonged to someone of great importance (though not a Pope, for they were buried in an underground mausoleum as they have been for hundreds of years). He briefly examined the face of the stone; it was too dark to see anything that was written on it, so none of the group could accurately tell what he was looking for. Apparently Arthur knew it by touch, though: after only a few moments, they could hear – and faintly see – the headstone slide backwards a few feet, revealing a dim, dingy staircase underneath.

Before they could even worry about finding and lighting a torch, Arthur wielded his staff – a beautiful weapon made of pearl, with an opal sitting atop its head – and held it aloft. Instantly a warm glow emitted from it, allowing them an acceptable field of vision in the ancient darkness. Juna and the others were suitably impressed.

"This tunnel will take us into a small room on the western side of the cathedral. It houses various artifacts and thus is only used during the day by tourists. Nobody bothers to guard it at night, especially now that the cathedral is on high alert and the Pope's security is top priority," he explained.

Quickly, the group dashed down the dusty tunnel, hardly stopping to sweep the hanging cobwebs from their faces as they went. At the end of the tunnel, the climbed a short stairwell; Arthur tapped the solid ceiling with the head of his staff, and it slid open effortlessly.

The group had to squint, because they were now being bombarded by the fluorescent lights of the crimson-walled room. One by one they emerged from the blackness, invisible behind them now in the glare of the light. They could see that this room did indeed hold some artifacts of great value, including a shawl rumoured to have once belonged to the archangel Zephyr, after whom Juna's organization was named.

"Okay," Audrey said quickly, "We don't have time to waste." She nodded at Bartheo, Raven and Genis, who slipped quietly out the door of the room and looked around. Several moments later they returned and ushered the remaining four group members out. Arthur led the way; left out of the room, and then left again to come into a hallway Aidan recognized from earlier in the day. He was a little surprised that they had no encountered any guards thus far; however, it wasn't too surprising, considering that any knights on hand were likely busy watching the hallways around the Pope's chambers, and the entrance to the cathedral.

Before long they came to the familiar bust of Pope Gregorius X's wife Amelia, and Arthur instinctively pressed her left eye inward to reveal the hidden doorway behind her. Juna chuckled quietly, having not seen the passage before. "How appropriate," she commented. Aidan, Audrey, and Arthur ignored her, dashing up the dark passageway as quickly as they were able.

When they reached the far end, Aidan pressed his ear against the wall to see if he could hear anything in the room. It would be disastrous if they walked in while the Pope was still awake, or while the guards were searching the room. Hearing nothing, the boy swung the wall outwards, and the dim lighting of the Papal chambers greeted him.

When he saw that the Pope was not in the room, Aidan wondered whether to feel relieved or disappointed. Whichever one he decided on, the group darted into the room and made a beeline for his desk. There was an assortment of papers and folders atop it, and they suspected that there had to be some clue hidden in the pile.

Something rustled behind them, and they all froze.

"Well, well, well," a female voice called out listlessly. Aidan and the others turned around to see a woman leaning against the wall, hidden in the shadow of the doorway they had just opened. "I see my suspicions were correct after all."

The woman stepped forward, and her silver armor glimmered in the lamplight. Aidan briefly caught a glimpse of the symbol of the Church of Martel – the now familiar angel descending from heaven – on her right shoulder. She ran a hand through her long, purple hair and smirked victoriously at the intruders. Her other hand rested on the hilt of a long katana sheathed at her waist.

"Marisa…" Arthur mumbled under his breath, looking ashamed.

"Consorting with traitors," the woman reprimanded. She stared at Arthur with cold, dead eyes. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. I never thought I'd live to see the day I saw the Providence of the Papal Trinity plotting high treason." Arthur remained silent.

"I could call in the guards and have you all arrested right here…" Marisa mocked. The look in her eyes – that of a lion admiring its cornered prey – told them that she had no intention of letting the Papal Knights have the glory of this kill. "No, maybe not." Effortlessly, she drew her blade from its sheath. It was a magnificently-crafted weapon, wrought of the finest steel. Its edge flickered as though hungrily awaiting its meal. "I think I'll indulge myself for once."

Arthur worked hard to suppress a laugh, and succeeded. Her words were nothing short of a great understatement; Marisa Myst was well known for her cruelty – it had given her the nickname, "Bloodmist". She was the Retribution of the Papal Trinity, responsible for dealing out its punishment in her own brutal ways. Nobody had yet crossed her and lived to tell about it, and she was about to add four notches to her bloody belt.

Aidan slid his spear off his back and gripped it tightly in both hands. He was not about to let one single woman get in his way – not again.

"So the mice _will_ indulge me," she said almost hungrily.

Aidan growled and leapt forth, despite Arthur's attempt to stop him. He lunged with the pointed end of his spear, aiming directly for Marisa's chest. The attack was so fast, so well aimed, that he was certain to spear her right through the heart.

He could not explain, then, why his blade struck thin air.

The other three members of the group gasped loudly, because Marisa was now standing _behind_ Aidan, with her back to him, and the hilt of her sword was buried into his neck. Aidan was amazed at the fact that this woman was faster than the pain itself, which washed over him several moments later as he collapsed onto the floor. Marisa glanced down at him and licked her lips before turning her gaze to the others. They had all drawn their weapons by now and were preparing to fight her to the very last.

"Ah ha ha!" she laughed coldly, swinging her blade at the air. "Let me carve your path to hell!"

Juna was the first to attack. She leapt forward, swinging her flute in a direct assault on Marisa's face. She almost succeeded, but the swordswoman was faster; she stepped to the side and grabbed Juna's arm with her free hand. One powerful swing sent the instrumentalist to the ground with a crash, sliding into the banister on the corner of the Pope's bed.

Audrey came next, from behind the Pope's desk. Her weapon was a red gymnast's ribbon, attached to a long, thin stick, and she lashed out with this forcefully, hoping to immobilize Marisa's blade-arm from her while she was still distracted by Juna. The ribbon seemed to have a life of its own and found its mark; it wrapped around Marisa's right wrist. The Bloodmist was unfazed, however; she swept low on the ground, spinning herself around, and dragging the helpless Audrey with her. The young girl was tossed about like a rag doll before Marisa finally dumped her on top of Juna's agonized body.

"You call this a fight?" she taunted, running a finger along the length of her katana. "I haven't even drawn first blood yet."

The blade raised high above her head, and she readied to strike Audrey and cleave her in two. However, the weapon clanged hard against something, and Marisa was shocked to see Aidan's spear blocking her way. She glowered at him; her cold eyes were now filled with malice and rage. In an astounding feat of acrobatics, she leapt backwards, sailing effortlessly through the air; she spun once, carrying the blade in an arc before her. A wave of energy seared forth, connecting hard with Aidan's chest and leaving a gash on his flesh even underneath his protective armor.

Suddenly, however, he felt the pain wash away under a wave of warmth, and he could see that Arthur was casting a spell on him. He could actually feel the wound closing up, stitching itself back together, as though it had never been there at all. He was able to get up and fight again in an instant.

Marisa was on the offensive now, charging at him from across the massive room. She slashed horizontally at his neck, but his spear was well-suited to deflect an attack of that nature. He countered by forcing the weapon to the side and then driving his knee into her unarmored stomach. She sputtered and coughed up some blood; a look of shock was painted onto her face as she withdrew, clutching her torso.

"You… _you_ drew first blood?" she bellowed as she glanced at the ruby-red liquid staining the carpet. "Intolerable!" A new rage enveloped her, and Aidan felt fear flow through his blood as he looked at her.

She advanced again, holding her blade to her side. A few feet from Aidan's position, she leapt into the air and came to an abrupt stop, holding the katana beneath her, pointed at the ground. "Suffer! _Hellfire_!" Then, she dropped; the blade pierced the ground, and waves of energy rippled through it. Suddenly Aidan was engulfed in flame, and he screamed loudly as the demonic heat seared his flesh. He could feel that even now Arthur was trying to soothe his pain and heal his wounds, but her attack was just too powerful. Aidan knew that the bishop had saved him from certain death, but another attack or two like that and he would be finished for good. Audrey and Juna were still unconscious, so he would be unable to rely on their help.

He knew that it was all up to him now, and this helped him to muster strength he didn't know he had. Somehow, the pain of singed flesh melted away, and he felt ready to take on his aggressor. She had withdrawn quite a ways now, and this gave Aidan room to advance at his leisure. He darted forth with his spear brandished. "Time to pay – _Doublethrust_!" He thrust the spear twice at Marisa's unguarded midsection, but she moved fast enough to dodge the assault. However, she was shocked to find energy emitting from the spear with each thrust; so shocked, in fact, that she could not dodge them in time, and both slashed her mercilessly, leaving blood dripping down her milky body.

As she gazed into Aidan's eyes, Marisa looked positively crazed now. She gripped her sword in both hands and leaped at him. He could practically see an evil aura pulsing all around her. She brandished the sword to her side and, as she reached the appropriate distance, slashed horizontally with such amazing force that the air around the weapon was visibly shifted. Aidan coughed up blood as the attack connected, leaving a gaping gash across his stomach. Marisa was relentless; she followed up by twirling her body and kicking her opponent twice in the face, and then slashing at him once again in line with his shoulders. He was momentarily stunned by the pain. "**Gates of Hell, open to me – Hell Cleaver!**" She stretched out her arms and exuded an energy that almost suffocated Aidan in and of itself. He looked down and tried to let out a scream: an abyss had opened in the floor beneath him, and through it he could see into the depths of the underworld; he was suspended above a land of fire and brimstone. A geyser of searing flame poured through this opening, engulfing Aidan in its relentless rage. After what could only have been an eternity of suffering, the abyss closed, and Aidan collapsed, an unconscious heap. Again, only Arthur's efforts during the attack saved him from certain death.

A look of crazed satisfaction on her face, Marisa turned to Arthur and grinned hungrily. "Just you and me now… the traitor and the executioner." She lifted her bloodthirsty weapon above her head again, and Arthur knew he could do nothing to stop her. Perhaps he deserved to die here. He was indeed… a traitor. He closed his eyes tightly and gulped, prepared to accept his fate.

Instead of feeling steel tear through flesh and bone, he heard the familiar clanging of metal.

"It's—it's you!" he cried, looking up to see Raven's katana barring Marisa's. They were staring at each other now; Marisa looked strangely pleased, and Raven looked calm as always.

"Brother dearest… so good to see you again," the Bloodmist said quietly. Raven ignored her and looked at Arthur.

"Get them out of here." He jerked his head in the direction of Arthur's incapacitated comrades. "I'll stop her." Arthur hesitated for a moment, unwilling to abandon the man who had just saved him. This did not sit well with Raven. "Now!"

Arthur was shocked, but nodded quickly and got up. He worked his magic and quickly brought Aidan, Juna, and Audrey back into the land of consciousness; then, he ushered them down the secret corridor and, barring any more intrusions, back towards the room through which they had entered.

Marisa did not seem to care that she had lost her prey, for she now had bigger game right in front of her. "My brother… how satisfying it will be to have your head mounted on my wall… the head of the late Pope's murderer."

Raven said nothing. Another clang as his sword clashed with Marisa's was all they could hear as they vanished into the corridor.

---

In the hallway that Bartheo, Genis, and Raven had been guarding, Genis was standing, staring down a strange young man dressed in black robes with a deep purple trim. The symbol of the Church of Martel was woven into the shoulder of his robe, in a crimson colour. He was holding a small wand that looked more like a war fan than anything else; Genis was holding his legendary kendama, One World.

"Oh no," Arthur gasped under his breath as he saw them. "He's here, too?" He and the others ducked and hid, not ready to face another battle.

"Halis Moonshadow, Judgment of the Papal Trinity, at your service," the man said arrogantly as he bowed low to Genis. "And I know very well who you are. What I don't know is what you're doing here." His long, crimson hair rustled playfully as he righted himself again, staring deep into the pools of wisdom that were Genis' eyes.

"And that is exactly how I intend things to stay," the half-elf retorted.

Halis let out a cold laugh and nodded. "Stubborn to the very end. It's a shame I have to kill you here. Living legend or not, you're breaking the law by conspiring against His Eminence, Pontifex Nigellus XVII. Your road ends here."

Genis was perfectly calm; a playful fire even danced in his eyes. "If you really think you can take me… go right ahead."

His opponent threw his black cape to the ground and held his battle fan out in front of him. "I'll show you the meaning of true power." The ground beneath him began to glow an orangey-red, and everyone could feel the raw energy emanating from his body. "_Flame Lance_!"

Materializing out of thin air, a gigantic lance of flame appeared some height above Halis. The hallway they were in was more than high enough to accommodate this; in fact, they could hardly see the ceiling in the darkness, except by the light of the flaming lance. The weapon suddenly lunged down toward Genis, but was deflected by a bright barrier of green energy. The flame lance dissipated instantly, and Genis laughed.

"Oh, you'll have to do much better than that," he lectured as he began playing with his kendama; or so it seemed. Of course, the suffocating energy erupting from his body indicated that he was not playing at all. "May the merciless embrace of frost take thee!" Suddenly, a ring of cold, blue air danced around Halis' feet. "_Absolute_!" Genis cried; and then, Halis was encased in ice. It was one of those things that you missed if you blinked. Genis snapped his fingers, and the ice shattered, leaving a broken body in its wake.

Halis groaned in pain, but struggled to his feet. Arthur could see something in his eyes; something that told him Halis was regretting his choice to battle Genis here. Arthur didn't blame him: who would want to duel one of the Legendary Heroes? However, Halis' resolve was admirable. He fixed his eyes on his target and shook his head, determined not to give in. "I won't be beaten so easily," he taunted. Waves of darkness flowed from within his body. "_Bloody Lance_!"

Suddenly, a shining glyph of purple and green energy apparated beneath Genis, and he found himself momentarily stunned by it. Four spears of darkness rose from the corners of the glyph and hovered ominously in the air for a second before raining down on him; then, a fifth one assaulted him from above. Each one pierced his body cleanly, but as they were fashioned from magical darkness, none of them left any visible wounds. Genis doubled over in pain just the same.

"Ha! You're just an old man who thinks he's still at the top of his game," Halis taunted with a satisfied smirk. He waved his war fan dismissively. "You're not even worth my time."

Struggling with his feeble muscles, Genis managed to get to his feet. "Not… worth your time?" he replied with a weak chuckle. The half-elf merely extended his hand, and Halis was surrounded by light blue energy; he, too, found himself unable to move. "Let's see…"

Bolts of lightning suddenly rained down mercilessly upon Halis, coursing through his body and sending pain through his nerves. When the storm ceased, a blade of energy cleaved him, filling him with even more electrically-charged anguish. "**I'll show you your powerlessness… Indignation Judgment!**" Genis' words hung powerfully in the air as a sphere of electrical energy appeared around Halis and rapidly closed on him, finishing off the brutal attack that Genis perfected so many centuries ago. His opponent collapsed in a heap on the floor, barely able to move. "Now who's pathetic?"

Upon seeing Genis' victory, Aidan and the others rushed out to greet him. He reminded them that there was no time to lose, and together they returned to the room where they had entered the cathedral. "Wait… where's Bartheo?" Juna asked suddenly.

"I sent him up ahead," Genis said. "When I sensed Halis' presence, I knew our plan had gone amiss. I needed him to make sure our escape route was secure. But what about Raven? He ran off shortly after Halis appeared and told us that Marisa had dealt with you by now."

Arthur looked troubled as he spoke. "He… stayed behind. He saved us from her. If he hadn't come, she would have…"

Genis nodded knowingly. "I see." Without another word, he left the room and turned back toward the passage to the Pope's chamber before anyone could stop him.

"Come on!" Audrey shouted. "They'll be fine. We've got to get out of here before they call down the whole army on us!"

Although Aidan in particular looked like he wanted a rematch with Marisa, the whole group eventually agreed, and they set off down the tunnel to the outside once more. Certain that their two strongest allies could handle themselves against a single opponent, they didn't look back as they hurried down the dark corridor. It was for this reason that they neglected the cloaked body sinking into the ground behind them.

---

Raven's eyes were transfixed on Marisa's as they dueled, fiercely assaulting each other with their weapons. There was no sibling love between them; no holding back whatsoever. Only the desire to kill. Marisa seemed to be enjoying every moment of it.

"You're as strong as ever, I see," she commented as her sword locked against Raven's once again.

"And your bloodlust remains unquenched," Raven replied, eyes unflinching. Marisa laughed.

"Only because I have yet to spill your blood with my blade," she explained; and then added, with the utmost contempt: "_dear_ brother."

Raven pushed her back and swung around in an arc, attempting to slice her torso from the opposite direction. She saw through the attack and blocked easily, however, a satisfied grin forever painted on her ruby lips. "It's no wonder the Pope's father fell to you," Marisa complimented – though Raven could tell it was more of a taunt than anything. "A feeble old man was no match for a power-hungry traitor." For the first time, Raven growled, and he swung his blade hard at Marisa's head in a feeble attempt to decapitate her. She of course dodged the barbaric assault with ease, letting out a shrill laugh. "You won't find me as easy a victim as he was!"

Raven did not falter in his assault. He brought the blade down over her head, and then slashed twice in a diagonal attack aimed at both shoulders, crying, "_Cross Slash!_" Marisa managed to parry the initial attack, but the second two swipes grazed both armor and unprotected flesh. Blood trickled down her arms and chest; she breathed in deeply and looked as though she was savouring the feeling.

"Ah," she said euphorically, "now I taste the rage that led you to kill him…" Marisa stepped back and opened herself to him. "Come! Unleash your fury on me! Make me your next victim!" The woman let out a cold laugh. "—if you can."

Raven lunged, and thrust the tip of his katana at her unguarded stomach. With uncanny speed, his sister stepped aside and grabbed the weapon between her index finger and thumb, stopping its momentum instantly. "_Dark Spark!_" she cried, invoking a storm of dark lightning to flicker along the sword's edge and directly into Raven's body. He cried out in pain as the attack engulfed him.

"I'm far more powerful than you now, brother," Marisa said gloatingly. She continued more darkly, saying, "I have had to be. For it is my duty – my privilege – to punish traitors… traitors like you. You shall pay for your treachery with your own blood."

Suddenly Marisa vanished, and Raven's eyes shot wide open as he scanned the room for her. He could not see her until she reappeared right in front of him – and beside him, to both sides – and behind him. "_Mirage Thruster!_" she cried, and her four selves lunged together. Knowing that only one of them was real – but that they would all hurt equally – Raven had no way of knowing which Marisa to parry. With her unmatched speed and skill, she could easily run him through. He prepared for the worst. Suddenly, a voice echoed through the air.

"Gentle winds, gather before me and transform into blades of air! _Cyclone!_"

Marisa's attack was halted, and Raven looked to see himself surrounded by cutting blades of wind. Three of the false Marisas had vanished, leaving the true one – she had been to his left – screaming in agony as the cyclone tore at her flesh. Raven instinctively flashed his gaze to the right and saw Genis standing in the doorway to the secret tunnel, beckoning. Raven saw Marisa slowly struggling to her feet as the attack ended, and he realized that he could not defeat her like this; he nodded to Genis and darted for the passageway.

"I don't understand," he muttered to himself as they made their hasty retreat. "She… should not be this powerful…"

Genis either did not hear him, or pretended not to. Raven's quiet words hung in the air as they ran.

---

As they reached the end of the tunnel, Arthur rapped three times on the door with his staff. The sound echoed momentarily and they could see the headstone above them sliding back to reveal the clear night sky and the cemetery through which they had entered. Arthur exited first, followed by Audrey and then Juna; Aidan came last after making sure they had not been followed. When he finally emerged, he took a quick breath of fresh air – not cleansing as he had hoped, but bred out of shock.

Bartheo, Juna, Arthur, and Audrey were all being held forcefully in the hands of green-and-silver clad knights wielding halberds. He could see two knights lying dead on the floor, their armor cleaved neatly over wounds that were still fresh with warm blood; Bartheo had obviously put up a good fight before finally succumbing to their sheer numbers.

"Members of Zephyr," the lead knight announced, stepping forward. "You are accused of the crime of high treason against His Holiness the Pope of the Church of Martel. You will be transferred to the Madrigora Dungeons to await sentencing." The knight jerked his head and one of his companions marched forth to grab Aidan by the arms. He added, "Do not try to resist. You are wanted alive… but are just as valuable to us dead."


	4. Guardian Angels

**Tales of Harmonia**

**Guardian Angels**

The Madrigora Dungeons were a dark, gloomy, and lifeless expanse of tunnels and prison cells used to hold prisoners of the church. Located on an island in the center of a large lake near New Meltokio, it was always eerily quiet because none of the cells ever stayed populated for long: the Grand Jury was usually quite efficient at doling out punishment to its prisoners, and very eager to do so. Everyone knew that it was only a matter of time before their sentence – no doubt execution in some barbaric form – arrived.

Aidan was sitting against a damp wall in a cell with Arthur, and he looked very troubled. He traced random patterns in the floor with his finger as he spoke quietly. "They were… so strong. We didn't stand a chance."

Arthur had been sitting on a little stony ledge by the barred window, staring out at the moonlight dancing on the surface of the lake. He turned and looked softly at Aidan. "No… they were _too_ strong."

Aidan wore a hurt expression. "Gee, thanks for making me feel better."

Arthur shook his head gravely. "No, I mean they were stronger than they should have been – than I _know_ them to be." He turned his gaze to the floor and suddenly a troubled expression invaded his features. "There was something… dark about them today. Unnatural. You felt it – didn't you?"

Aidan thought back to Marisa's special attack, when she had somehow opened a gate to the underworld – Aidan had never experienced fear like that before. He recalled Halis' Bloody Lance attack, and the raw, evil energy pulsating from him as he used it. He nodded. "Yes, you're right."

Arthur looked back outside. "I think it's related to the Pope's secret meetings."

Shocked to hear this, Aidan looked up. "Really? His meetings with the Hand of Beatrix?" Arthur nodded. "But I thought they were just a group of bandits."

"I don't know who they are or what they do," Arthur said quietly, "but I know that the Pope has changed since he started meeting with them. I see him all the time – well, I used to, before he started leaving the cathedral to have his meetings. I didn't notice it at first, but now I realize that over the months and years, his eyes grew darker, more sullen; he became quieter and less friendly; he didn't seem to care about his people anymore. I'm not sure, but now that I think about it, I don't even think he slept anymore."

"Really?" Aidan questioned, surprised. "You didn't notice stuff like that? I mean, it seems pretty obvious."

Arthur chuckled and nodded his head. "Yes, I guess you're right. But I always had… such faith in that man. Such unadulterated faith in and respect for him. I must have driven the changes out of my mind because I didn't want to believe he had changed. In my blindness, I must have ignored the changes in Marisa and Halis as well…"

Aidan looked away and pondered. _Wow… it must be horrible… to realize that you had such trust in people, only to have it betrayed completely._

"I never wanted anything to do with it," Arthur said after a while. Aidan snapped back to reality and didn't know what Arthur meant. He looked quizzical. "The meetings, I mean," the bishop clarified. "The Pope occasionally invited us to sit in on the meetings with him; he said he wanted our input. Marisa and Halis always accepted, but it never sat well with me – the idea of holding meetings of which the details were never spoken outside the Pope's chambers, I mean." He sighed sadly. "I drifted apart from them during those months. I can't believe I was so stupid as to not realize it…"

"Don't beat yourself up," Aidan comforted. "There was no way you could have known—"

"But I should have!" Arthur interrupted. "They were… my friends once. Marisa and Halis. But Marisa looked… like she would have killed me as soon as given me the time of day. You know that bloodlust in her eyes?" Aidan nodded. "Before tonight I had never seen that. It was why I couldn't bring myself to use my magic against her. It was… so frightening, so jarring. I thought, is this really Marisa? This bloodthirsty demon is Marisa? And I couldn't move."

"But… how did she receive her nickname, then?"

Arthur sniffled a little. "Don't get me wrong – Marisa always dealt cruelly and harshly with those who crossed the Church's path. However, she always did so for the sake of the Pope and the Church of Martel. Tonight, I think she was acting on a carnal instinct. She was like… an _animal_…" As those words struggled valiantly to pass his lips, Arthur broke down and started crying.

Aidan could find no words to console his new companion. He sat in silence, surrounded by his own thoughts. In the murky blackness, penetrated only by the faint glimmer of the moon through the window, Aidan realized that he was involved in so much more than the games of a power-hungry Pope.

---

The clinking of metal echoed ominously through the corridors of the Madrigora Dungeons; a death peal for anyone who heard it. The prisoners of the accursed dungeon knew that when the Papal Knights deigned to enter their presence, it meant that the Grand Jury had rendered their decision. It was no surprise that the captured heroes suddenly began panicking as these sounds tolled for them.

Across the hall, Aidan could see Juna and Audrey in their shared cell. They had already tried to escape the cell in various ways, none of which were successful. Bartheo, who was now awake (the knights had knocked him out after he attempted one last resistance before being thrown into the cell), had tried smashing and bending the bars, but even his brute strength did not avail them. They looked at each other in turn and knew that their time had come.

The four Papal Knights were escorting a slimmer, pale man in black and white robes down the corridor. When they reached the captives' cells, this man stepped forward and unrolled an official-looking scroll. He cleared his throat and began reading in a crackly voice.

"Members of Zephyr, hereafter referred to as The Damned, have been found guilty of high treason against His Eminence Pope Nigellus XVII. You, the Damned, are sentenced to death by fire. You will be burned alive in the hopes that, as the flames sear your flesh, you will finally realize that the flames of revolution will never prevail against those who rule by divine right."

Juna scoffed audibly, causing the scribe to look up irritably from his scroll. "That's a pretty flowery way of saying 'We want to kill you so the truth will never be revealed,'" she said with a hint of amusement.

The scribe did not laugh. He rolled up the scroll and said, with finality, "The execution will take place immediately. Remove the Damned and escort them to the Ring of Fire."

Obediently, a knight opened each of the cell doors and the four beastly men flanked the group, leading them back down the corridor towards a large door at its end. From there, the group was shepherded through a series of corridors that forced them to appreciate how truly large the compound was.

Aidan had only heard stories of the Madrigora Dungeons. Apparently there were dozens of chambers set aside specifically for executions: hangings, beheadings, burning alive, and even more gruesome punishments. Usually the executions were conducted in private – because of their brutality, the church claimed. However, the confidentiality hid the many controversial executions happened there as well – executions that, according to popular rumour, would ruin the church if ever expoesd. In certain cases, however – like theirs – members of the public visited the compound via ferry to view the executions of those who would harm the Church of Martel.

The Ring of Fire was in essence a large stadium with a huge, ashen ring in the middle. The spectators saw the executions from an admirable vantage point in their seats starting at thirty feet above the ground and rising from there in true stadium fashion. Several iron stakes were planted into the ground inside the ashen ring – the stakes to which the Damned were tied. Aidan and each of his companions received their own, private stake; the Papal Knights bound them to them with steel chains and then began piling up wood around their feet and dousing it with gasoline. It would be a brilliant flash of flames, and there would be no shortage of suffering before, one by one, Aidan and his companions were snuffed out of existence to the cheering of thousands of devout followers.

The scribe's voice boomed throughout the stadium, enhanced by magic, as the last of the spectators filed into their seats. "These traitors have plotted against the Church of Martel and planned to kill our spiritual leader, Pope Nigellus XVII!" The crowd booed emphatically at his words. "Even one of the Papal Trinity, Arthur Theo, has been turned against his calling by the treacherous members of Zephyr." Arthur bowed his head, apparently ashamed, and was met with very loud boos and muffled cries of 'Burn the traitor!'

Those members of the group who could see each other silently consoled each other as they prepared for their last moments. There was obviously no escaping now: even if they somehow broke their bonds, they would have to fight through any number of Papal Knights and escape the screaming fanatics in the stands above them. Then there was the added trouble of actually getting off the island and finding safety elsewhere. It was simply hopeless.

"Sinners! In these, your final moments, I pray that you atone for your transgressions in the hopes that Martel, in Her unending mercy, will forgive you and grant you passage into the next life."

This was met with wild cheering from the crowd, and the lead knight raised his hand: the signal to start the execution. At the same time, all the knights lit their torches and prepared to drop them on the wood surrounding the captives. Before the lead knight could drop his hand, however, a voice rang sharply through the arena.

"The bloodshed will stop!"

The crowd sounded confused for a moment, and then someone shouted and pointed to the top of the pole Aidan's was tied to. Standing thirty feet above the ground, a woman was balancing on the narrow stake. She was a black-haired beauty dressed in black tights; a red, leather trench coat hung around her shoulders, and it was tied tightly around her waist by a crimson ribbon of silk. Underneath the jacket, she wore a revealing black top that amused many of the male members of the crowd.

"What madness is this?" the scribe's voice demanded.

"These people have done nothing to deserve death," the woman explained, her voice singing even louder than his. As soon as she spoke, a hush fell over the crowd. "They merely seek the truth – the truth about a Pope who has misled you!"

Amid gasps of disbelief, the stranger produced in her hands what looked like cards and then leapt with supreme grace from the top of the pole. Her long, raven-coloured locks of hair and the tail of her red coat fluttered playfully in the wake of her descent. By now, however, the Papal Knights were on her like moths to a flame. She produced another card from within the jacket and threw it forward as she landed. It suddenly lost momentum and hovered in the air half-way between her and the wall of knights aiming to stop her; then it spun wildly, uncontrollably. Energy pulsated from the deceptive piece of paper and it began to glow. Moments later, after a brilliant flash of light, the card was no longer there: something more sinister had replaced it.

The creature looked vaguely like a featherless bird with long, clawed arms instead of wings. Instead of a tail it had a strange ornament on its back that could be likened to the steering wheel of a large ship. Upon this wheel-like appendage was draped a piece of paper with a strange symbol that meant 'Water'. The Guardian growled angrily through its hooked beak and stared down the frightened knights.

Their saviour wasted no time, realizing that the knights had to be dealt with if they were to be freed from their bondage without incident. Aidan was amazed at the fact that she showed no sign of faltering despite the fact that she was up against eight fully-armed Papal Knights. He was even more amazed at her speed: in the blink of an eye she had vanished from her spot, and a streak of crimson was all that could be seen across the backs of the line of knights. They all simultaneously stumbled and fell forward onto their knees, propping themselves up with their halberds.

When they had recovered, the knights decided that the best way to deal with the situation was to divide their forces evenly. Four of them charged at the stranger, while the other four attempted to tackle the strange vulture-like beast she had summoned with a piece of paper.

An amused grin was painted onto the stranger's beautiful face as she saw the knights surround her and brandish their weapons. "Surrender now!" one of them demanded. She merely laughed.

"I don't think so." The woman held her cards aloft, extending her hands out in front of her, palms open. Somehow, the cards were suspended in mid-air before her, and they too began to glow. "It's over! _Whirlwind Seal!_" She spun around and slammed her now-free hand into the ground. The glowing cards divided and multiplied as though they were bacteria being examined under a microscope. Before the knights even had time to react, the newly-multiplied weapons whipped up into a frenzy, swirling around the stranger in a crazed vortex of dangerous cards. The knights cried out in pain as the simple pieces of paper somehow cut through their thick armor, quite literally like knives through tin cans.

If Aidan craned his neck, he could also just barely see the summoned guardian easily defending against its four targets. Occasionally one knight would jab at it with his halberd, but the vulture-like beast would reach out with its long arms and grab the weapon by the shaft, or slash the knight in the face and cause him to stumble. Aidan also occasionally saw the creature's wheel-shaped tail spin wildly just before it unleashed a powerful spray of water from its mouth, sending knights flying in every direction.

Looking back towards the mysterious stranger, Aidan could see that her powerful seal attack had finished the knights in one blow: all four of them were lying in agony on the ground, feebly attempting to scramble to their feet. She was now darting around the arena and using her cards to break the bonds by which he and his companions were held. However, the sounds of more clinking metal could be heard, and Aidan knew that more Papal Knights were filing onto the scene, ready to oppress the revolt.

Finally, the woman reached Aidan's stake. She raised a card above her head and brought it down forcefully; Aidan expected to hear some kind of shattering noise, but did not. The chain merely severed and fell to the ground with a clank. He stepped forward and turned to thank her, but the woman had already vanished into the throng of knights now stepping into the arena.

Aidan's friends had already been freed, and he could see them holding their own against whatever knights had made the mistake of attacking them. Juna was off to his right, and he could see her dancing around a pair of Papal Knights. She easily dodged every attack they made, and occasionally bombarded them with the energy summoned by the song of her flute.

The boy was surprised to see Audrey fighting two knights of her own off to his left. Audrey was moving gracefully, directing her gymnast's ribbon with flicks of her wrist and swings of her arm, but it seemed that if she gave the ribbon an inch, it took a mile: Aidan could have sworn it had a life of its own as it darted about. First it lashed out and turned across the first knight's chest, and when it retreated, he could see a gash in the man's armor through which blood was trickling, as though the piece of cloth had somehow become a deadly razor capable of shearing metal effortlessly. Then the ribbon doubled back and aimed for the second guard; Audrey used it to grab him, wrap him up tight, hoist him several dozen feet in the air, and then drop him like a hot potato. There was a sickening crunch as he hit the ground, and Aidan had to turn away.

Bartheo was showing just why he was so difficult to capture back at the cathedral. He had already downed two knights by cleaving them cleanly down the torso, and two more were making futile efforts at subduing him by force. He was able to parry their attacks with his dual axes and follow up by cutting through their armor like tissue paper.

Even Arthur was holding his own: he was standing still and a small group of knights was sidestepping around him carefully, trying to find an opening. However, whenever one of them advanced, he raised his staff and a bolt of light shot out from its tip and struck them, sending them flying. Occasionally he chanted a verse and a ball of light appeared above his head, from which several rays shot out in all directions, scattering the ring of enemies around him.

Aidan was not standing still as he watched, though: he was already being confronted by two armor-clad tin cans and was doing his best to keep them at bay. His usual advantage over an opponent was that his spear was much longer than whatever weapon they had, and thus he could keep them at a distance. However, in this case, the knights' halberds were about as long as his spear, so he had to be doubly careful and alter his tactics a little. Whenever one of them attempted an attack, he carefully stepped to the side and used his momentary advantage to drive the head of the staff into their chest or arm. His weapon did not pierce the metal quite as easily as his companions', but it was sufficiently suited to defeating the knights.

Before long, the group had mowed down enough knights that a small opening had been created, and the strange woman was standing at one of the exits to the arena and beckoning to them. Of course they did not hesitate: each of them ran towards her as quickly as they were able. Aidan and Bartheo took one last look to make sure no knights were dangerously close to them before also turning into the tunnel and racing after the woman.

"My name is Shareen," she explained in transit. Shareen appeared to know the island very well, as she was turning down a seemingly-arbitrary series of tunnels and passageways that would have taken the group hours to navigate on their own.

"Thanks for saving us," Juna said immediately as they ran, "but what are we supposed to do now? The Madrigora Dungeons are on an island, after all."

Shareen apparently decided that there was no time for talking. She said nothing more, and nobody asked, as they headed frantically for the way out of their almost-resting place.

---

The night air was refreshing after being locked in jail cells and almost burned at the stake, but none of the group had any time to enjoy it. Shareen was still running, heading towards the lake that surrounded the compound. Aidan could just vaguely make out a shadowy figure standing near the water beside was looked like a boat. He didn't ask any questions as they hurried toward him.

"Brother!" she called out suddenly. "Let's get out of here!"

Moments later they had reached the boat, which was more than large enough for all of them, and they hopped in without hesitation. Already knights were pouring out of the exits to the building, and alarms were wailing loudly into the night. Suddenly, a glowing card appeared in front of Shareen, and she took it in hand. "Damn," she muttered.

"What does that mean?" Aidan asked, looking at the card.

"It means my guardian has been defeated. There must be more of those knights than I thought."

"Not to worry, sister," the strange man said, stepping into the boat. Aidan looked at him and saw that he was dressed in a very typical ninja fashion; his body was covered in light, black clothing so that only his eyes could be seen. He made an odd pose and said, "I call upon the maiden of the mist! I summon thee – come, Undine!"

Aidan saw, behind the boat, a swell of water energy. A strange woman rose up from the water. Her skin was blue, and she looked to be wearing robes that were not made of cloth, but of _water_. Her purple hair flowed like a river out behind her.

"Undine," the man said, "please propel this boat as quickly and safely as you can to the other side of the lake!"

"As the pact-maker wills," the spirit said in a sultry voice. She merely lifted her hand and vanished into thin air. A small wave of water rose behind the boat and rushed forward; the group was jarred by the sudden burst of movement, and had to hold on for their dear lives as the little wooden vessel raced across the lake and away from the fuming knights behind them.

---

Although Port Kilika was usually a quiet little port town on the edge of the large lake, today it was bustling with life. News of the interrupted execution had reached even this sleepy little villa by now, and Papal Knights were prowling the dusty streets in search of the strange woman and the captives she had freed from death. They were safe, however: Shareen had led them into the basement of a building on the edge of town. The upper floors were a souvenir shop, a front for the fact that the building was really the base of operations for an espionage ring in the city.

Aidan and the others were seated on the floor around a large wooden table. Shareen and her brother sat together, with everyone else gathered around them. By now, Genis and Raven had caught up with them. It was not difficult to gather the information that the others had been taken to the Madrigora Dungeons, and thus they headed there immediately to try and rescue them. Shareen and her brother intercepted them, knowing their plight, and went off to rescue them themselves. Genis and Raven had insisted on coming, but they were persuaded that four was too much of a crowd, and thus they waited at the port, never knowing – until now – who the strange saviours were.

"It is time for a proper introduction," her brother said. Everyone could get a closer look at his face now that he had removed his black hood and mask, and they had gotten over the initial shock that he bore a striking resemblance to his sister, Shareen. "I am Shard Fujibayashi, chief of my village, and this is my twin sister, Shareen."

Genis looked shocked to hear this. "Did you say… Fujibayashi?" he asked feebly. Aidan turned and thought he saw the old half-elf's eyes mist up.

"Fujibayashi?" Aidan questioned. "You mean like the Legendary Hero, Sheena?"

Genis' eyes watered more noticeably now, but he closed them and nodded his head briskly.

"Yes," Shareen answered. "We are descended from Sheena Fujibayashi, the greatest chieftaness of our village."

"But how did you know to rescue us?" Juna inquired. "I mean, I don't want to sound ungrateful, but… what led you to mistrust the accusations that we were plotting treason against the Pope?"

Shard looked in her direction and chuckled. "To this instant we have no doubt that you _are_ plotting treason against the Pope."

The group was taken aback. Audrey looked confused and asked, "But how did you know? Were we… not careful enough?" She shot a worried glance at Juna, and both of them seemed to wonder who else knew if these two strangers did.

"You were indeed very careful," Shareen complimented. "In fact, gathering information on your efforts was a difficult task even for us."

"'Even for you'?" Bartheo asked skeptically, crossing his arms. "What's that mean?"

"They're from Mizuho," Raven said matter-of-factly with a knowing expression on his face. "Sheena Fujibayashi was one of the greatest leaders of that village. She was the first chieftaness to form pacts with all ten summon spirits of this world, and was the second person in its history to do so. Only a handful has succeeded since then. As soon as they mentioned her, and as soon as I considered how they knew about us last night, I pieced it together immediately."

Juna nodded her head slowly. "And Mizuho is infamous for its spy network. They say there isn't anything you can't find out if you want to."

Shareen nodded her head with a smile. "That's right. We haven't lost our touch. Of course, since Zephyr is a group that has recently done a lot of espionage, you were well-versed in tactics to hide your true intentions. But we were, in the end, more skilled," she gloated.

Aidan held out his hands and said, "Woah, woah, woah. That's great and all, but I still don't get one thing: _why_ did you help us if you knew we were plotting to kidnap the Pope?"

Shard fielded the question. "Because we also knew your intentions were not malicious."

"We've noticed strange behaviour in the Pope as well," Shareen elaborated. "Not only in the Pope, but in the organization known as the Hand of Beatrix. In fact, the only reason Shard and I are here is because we're investigating a group of its members who are operating within Kilika. If it hadn't been for that…"

"—you wouldn't have been able to come to our rescue," Juna finished with a slight chuckle. Shareen nodded solemnly.

"So you see," Shard continued, unfazed, "we rescued you because we supposed to an almost certain degree that your aims were the same as ours. Of course…" – he looked at each of them grimly and seriously – "if we find that our trust was misplaced, we will simply turn you back in to the Papal Knights. We of Mizuho are currently on decently good standing with the Pope, and thus the knights would never suspect our involvement with undue cause. Your next visit to Madrigora Island will not be so lucky."

Aidan gulped hard at this news and thanked the spirits that they were indeed only trying to figure out what the Pope was really doing. He certainly didn't favour the idea of being thrown back into prison to await a sentence that would likely be more gruesome than the previous one. Nobody had ever resisted execution in the Madrigora Dungeons before, and the Grand Jury would have a ball thinking up a new punishment for that sin.

"I assure you that we intend no undeserved harm to the Pope," Juna said. This seemed to satisfy Shard, and he nodded.

"Good. Then for now our two paths become one," he said.

"You said you were investigating Hand of Beatrix activity in this area," Raven said after a short silence. His eyes were closed and he was showing his usual lackadaisical attitude.

Shareen nodded quickly. "Yes, we are. A small group of its members are active in this region, and their base of operations is here in Kilika. We came very close to finding its exact location, but then they paid us back in kind by almost ferreting us out. We are currently waiting until things blow over before we make our next move."

Juna looked interested in their findings. "Have you discovered anything odd so far?"

Shard shook his head and said, "Unfortunately, no. We know that their leader is a woman named Sonia Mi'Arden, but we don't know much about her. On the surface they seem to be an ordinary bandit ring, but their targets are not ordinary trinkets. They are trinkets that no merchant in the free world would even consider buying – priceless but worthless, if you will. We want to know why."

"As do we," Juna assured him with a nod of her head. "That's why we were trying to interrogate the Pope. We want to know what his involvement is. The Hand of Beatrix has gone unopposed for far too long. He simply must be involved with them somehow."

"We are of the same opinion," Shareen said. She ran a finger absentmindedly through her long, raven hair, and Aidan could only stare, enchanted by her beauty. She didn't notice.

"Well, why don't we help you find out?" Aidan said suddenly. The idea had come to him initially as a chance to get closer to Shareen, but overall it sounded like a good idea. "By now, we must be pretty well known amongst the Hand of Beatrix, assuming they are in league with the Pope and all. We can lure them out or something."

Shard seemed to consider this for a moment. "It _would_ help us if we could interrogate one of their members… and it is true that we can't risk attracting their attention by ourselves… but I do not wish to get you involved, strangers."

Genis chuckled slightly. "But we already _are_ involved, if you take my meaning. One way or another, the Hand of Beatrix will eventually set its sights upon us. We might as well direct their gaze when the cards are in our hand."

Shareen smiled and giggled. "Brother's just trying to sound responsible. He meant to ask you for help all along." Shard objected to this accusation audibly, but Shareen waved him off. "As we have told you, the Hand of Beatrix covers their tracks well: whenever we see their members exit a building, we go in to investigate, only to find an ordinary home or shop. We suspect that they have several fronts in this city, like ours up above. Our reports indicate that they most frequently emerge from one particular tavern in the northern part of town: the Black Eye."

"The tavern is notorious," Shard continued, "for being a meeting place for all types of low-life activity. Bandits and pirates of every variety spend their evenings there. We have little doubt that if someone caused enough of a ruckus in there, he would certainly attract the attention of the Hand of Beatrix."

Excited, Aidan leapt to his feet. He had a faraway, adventurous look in his eyes. "So all we have to do is make some trouble in this Black Eye bar, right? That sounds easy!"

Juna gave him a chiding look. "Easy, yes, but dangerous. There is also another variable we need to control: attracting the attention of the Hand of Beatrix and not the other pond scum hanging around. The last thing we need is a group of drunken pirates looking for a fight."

Shard nodded his head, impressed. "This is correct. You are wise beyond your years, Juna." He stood up and moved across the room to a wooden cabinet in the corner. Opening the top drawer, the handsome man pulled out a golden statue of an angel wearing a diamond-studded tiara. Genis' eyes lit up.

"That's—it can't possibly be—"

"The Spiritua Statue," Shard said with a nod. "Or, at least, a good enough replica to fool all but the most astute collectors."

"What's a Spiritua," Aidan asked in a puzzled tone, "and why is there a statue of it?"

Juna sighed. "Spiritua was the first Chosen of the ancient world. She began the first pilgrimage of world regeneration, and her success branded her as a saint and saviour for the entire world of Sylvarant."

"Oh," Aidan said with a nod. "I knew that."

"The Spiritua Statue," Shareen explained, "is a treasure long thought lost even to the church. The popular joke among collectors is that not even the church would be able to afford the Spiritua Statue if it were ever found."

"And so it would be irresistible to the Hand of Beatrix," Raven reasoned. Shareen nodded.

"But what makes you think they'll take the bait?" Arthur questioned with a strange look. "There haven't even been _rumoured_ sightings of the Spiritua Statue in over seven centuries."

Shard moved back toward the table and set down the startlingly-accurate replica in front of everyone. Even Genis, who had seen the real thing a thousand years ago, could not believe it was actually a fake. "That is irrelevant," he said simply.

"Irrelevant?" Aidan questioned. "How?"

"The replica is so good," Shareen elaborated, "that even those who have seen the real statue" – on saying this she cast a glance at Genis – "can scarcely tell that it's a fake. Of course, if it passed into the hands of the church it would no doubt be found out for what it is. However, we don't need to get that far."

"The only thing we need to know right now," Shard continued, "is where the Hand of Beatrix is operating from in Kilika. We can figure out what to do from there. This statue will easily fool any of the random thugs hanging around in the tavern. They will undoubtedly take you to one of their superiors, and we can take things from there."

Juna rapped one end of her flute against the wooden table absentmindedly. "Take things from there… and how do you suppose we do that? If they take us into their base to meet with their superior, we'll be in unfamiliar, enemy territory without any way of contacting you."

At Juna's words, Shareen withdrew a card from a pocket inside her open jacket; it looked almost exactly like the one she had used to summon the strange creature at the Ring of Fire. "This is a Guardian card," she said, tossing the enchanted piece of paper across the table. Juna caught it effortlessly. "As you have seen, they can be used to summon creatures called Guardians. However, they are also linked with me, their current master. If one of you holds one of these cards, I will be able to sense your location at all times, and contact you telepathically. I would assist you personally, but unfortunately Shard and I are too well known to the Hand of Beatrix bandits in this city."

Juna passed the card to Aidan. He fingered it awhile, looking it over and trying to figure out how a mythical creature could possibly be hidden inside of it. Aside from the strange, illegible markings on both sides of the piece of paper, he could see nothing that explained the matter.

"We believe that you and Aidan would be the best choices," Shard announced.

"But I wanna come too!" Audrey protested.

Shareen grinned and shook her head. "I'm afraid you don't fit the description of a typical mercenary treasure hunter, or an archaeologist, or any suitable cover for this case."

"There is also the fact that we do not wish to involve too many of you at one time," Shard rationalized. "The fewer of you there are, the less chance there is of anyone suspecting you of being something you aren't."

Aidan nodded his head, still looking as excited as ever. "Alright! So let's get going!" He took the false Spiritua Statue in hand and stood up excitedly.

"Let's go over the plan once," Shareen said carefully. "We can't afford any mistakes."

---

Juna would later point out that the events in the Black Eye tavern could not have gone more smoothly or perfectly if Providence Itself had stepped in to guide them. She and Aidan entered casually and excitedly, dressed like two archaeologists back from a dig; their expressions were perfectly suited to the act: they had just discovered an artifact of great importance to them, and yet they were not so obvious in their excitement as to give away its value. This was to prevent other random treasure hunters intervening in order to get a quick fortune, as any warm-blooded human would of course be attracted to do: when one waves a steak in front of a starving dog, one cannot but expect the dog to leap.

To further prevent any unfortunate interventions from the undesired crowd, Juna purchased a round of drinks for the lot of them, inducing rousing chants of nonsense that she could only assume were some form of thanks. _Now that we're on better terms with them,_ she thought at the time, _there will be less chance of their prying._

Naturally the bartender inquired as to why Aidan and Juna were so joyous and generous that evening. Aidan played his part by vaguely describing the Spiritua Statue. Juna could have mistaken him for a true actor, for he played the part well: he only provided imprecise details about the statue and its origins, enough to put off the average passerby (who would undoubtedly cast it aside as another of the religious artifacts the church was so fervently seeking in those times), but also enough to entice those knowledgeable enough about such things.

It came as no surprise that the Hand of Beatrix fit that particular bill.

Shortly after Aidan had carefully laid his bait, and once the crowd was beginning to settle down (for they had become unruly and cheerful after being given a free round of ale), he and Juna were approached by a shady character. The man was tall and slim (not to be confused with a lack of muscle), and he was shrouded in dark robes that concealed all of his body. A black band of cloth ran horizontally across the middle of his face, covering his nose but leaving his eyes and mouth exposed. Aidan wondered was it terribly uncomfortable, but decided that it must not have been. Without being invited, the man took a seat beside the pair and signaled for a drink.

"Did I hear you correctly?" he asked in a rasped whisper.

"I don't know," Juna said, spinning around in her stool and leaning back against the bar. "What did you hear?"

"That you've found the Spiritua Statue."

Aidan and Juna both turned. Aidan had never once mentioned the name of the statue: even the most uncultured barbarian knows just how valuable the Spiritua Statue is. If this man was able to deduce what exactly they were talking about, he was clearly knowledgeable in ancient religious artifacts. This did not immediately mean that he was a member of the Hand of Beatrix (though Aidan felt sure he was if for no other reason than his odd clothing), so further investigation was required.

"You assume much," Aidan said with a bit of a chuckle. He shifted in his seat as he awaited the response.

The stranger huffed with amusement. "You did not need to say it directly. The description was clear enough: not to one of these rag-tag mercenaries, perhaps, but to one well-versed in the acquisition of artifacts, you could not have been more obvious unless you _had_ named it directly." He took the drink offered by the bartender and sipped it quietly while gazing at the pair through the corner of his eyes.

"A master of antiquities, then." Juna turned to face the stranger and eyed him up and down. "Supposing we _have_ found the Spiritua Statue… what of it? Have you come to take it from us?" She grinned playfully; the stranger would no doubt take it as a challenging grin, but in fact Juna knew that his answer would do a good deal towards deciphering his allegiance.

"No," the man replied simply in his whispering voice, drowning himself in another shot of the drink in his hand. Aidan wondered if he was merely deterred by the horde of sailors now friendly toward him and Juna thanks to their generous donation. "But I do have a proposition."

He immediately rose from his seat before even waiting to see if Aidan and Juna were at all interested. Quickly he glided across the floor; black robes billowed behind him like a dark wind, beckoning the pair to follow. They passed a glance at each other, and without words they expressed that they both felt sure this was the man they were looking for. Without hesitation, they stood and followed behind.

The opposing wall of the room seemed nothing out of the ordinary: it was lined with shelves upon which stood glasses and mugs of a variety of shapes and sizes, some of them on display because of their value (for there are indeed true valuables among such things to those who are interested in seeking them).

"My… employer would be very interested in this find," the figure whispered. A few strands of black hair had fallen loose from his hood and hung over his eyes. "She would very much like to meet you with, I am sure."

"You're still assuming we actually _have_ found the Spiritua Statue." Juna eyed the man curiously. He looked at her and chuckled darkly.

"It is a chance I am willing to take."

He passed a glance at the bartender, who surveyed the room and then nodded back at him. The figure reached up and palmed an empty beer mug on the shelf. Very gently he slid it forward, and to his left, the wall slid open, revealing a descending flight of stairs. "Come." He said no more and dropped into the darkness. As Aidan and Juna followed, the drunken crowd never even realized that their generous companions had vanished.


	5. Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire

**Tales of Harmonia**

**Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire**

The strange complex into which Aidan and Juna had been led surprised them. The hard, steel tiles on the ground and the cold wallpaper lining the walls stood in stark contrast to the warm (if shady) tavern that lay aboveground. There was little doubt in their minds, however, that this was the hideaway of the Hand of Beatrix. Although they had never seen it before, a peculiar symbol adorned all of the doors and was printed at interval along the walls: a black pentagon, on the inside of which was inscribed a black hand, fingers outstretched and palm facing outward. A single snake slithered between the fingers and then coiled around the wrist, its face pointing downward.

Their shadowy guide led them down a series of hallways, each of which looked much like the last. They were a multitude of doors branching off of these tunnels into which they were not taken, but looking in, Aidan and Juna could see rooms filled with strange devices: machines purred like giant mechanical cats; screens which hung impossibly in mid-air displayed strange numbers and letters; buttons flashed on panels connected to other, more complicated devices.

"Is that… magitechnology?" Juna whispered to Aidan, keeping out of earshot of their guide. "These devices have not been seen since before Aselia was reunited from the two Ancient Worlds. We still use some magitechnology today, but _this_…"

Aidan could say nothing. He wasn't much of a history buff, but he still found it very shocking that these Hand of Beatrix bandits were dabbling in ancient technologies that once possessed the ability to destroy the world. Then again, perhaps it wasn't so odd at all, if one considered that they might not have been mere bandits at all. Aidan pondered the implications of this.

In the meanwhile, their guide suddenly stopped at the end of one hallway, before a tall, steel door with no windows. The seal of the Hand of Beatrix was emblazoned on it as it was with all the others. Without a word, the man turned and extended his hand, signaling them to wait. They did so; he stepped through the door, which slid open of its own accord for him, and then shut behind him, preventing their access.

"I guess this is it," Aidan said, a hint of anxiety in his voice. Juna nodded.

"Yeah. I don't think there's any doubt about it." She paced back and forth, occasionally glancing at the door. Her arms were folded across her chest and she, too, looked nervous.

"You think his superior is that Sonia woman Shareen was talking about?"

Juna nodded. "I do. If it is, then we're going to have to be extremely careful. She's an important figure in this faction of the Hand, and my intuition tells me she won't hesitate to kill us."

Aidan looked even more nervous. "Wh…what do you think they've got all those weird devices for?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

"I don't know." Juna shook her head. "But if they really are more than just bandits, it isn't a good sign that they're in possession of technology that was once capable of destroying the world."

"But magitechnology can be used for good, right?"

"Of course," the woman replied with a curt nod. "But it all depends on who is at its helm. 'Absolute power corrupts absolutely.' Many people would kill for supremacy over such instruments – and many have, in the past. Somehow I don't think these—"

But she was cut off by the screech of the metal door sliding open beside her. Immediately she stepped back beside Aidan, and the robed man appeared again. "My master will see you now," he said simply, and then turned back into the room. This time they followed.

The office was much more lavishly decorated than the rest of the complex. A velvety, wall-to-wall carpet softened their steps; several animal heads hung decoratively on the walls on wooden plaques; a fire crackled in the very back of the office; and in front of this fire was a beautiful mahogany desk, behind which sat a woman in a plush chair. Her hair, an alluring mélange of crimson and black, draped alluringly over her shoulders, but her cold, penetrating eyes stayed her attractiveness somewhat. She stood up as the duo entered, and they could see that she was dressed in a very elegant black, sequined gown. With a gentle sway of her hips she crossed the room.

"Welcome to my office," she said. Her voice was sweet, and carried a heavy accent – one we would attribute to an eastern European. "I am Sonia Mi'Arden. My associate tells me that you have made… a remarkable discovery. Please… have a seat."

The woman moved back to her desk and sat down, gesturing politely towards the two leather chairs located in front of it. Juna and Aidan obliged, making their way towards the comfortable seats.

"The Spiritua Statue," she said in her musky accent, dispensing with the pleasantries of learning their names. "Some say it is only a legend… but if found…" She gazed at them each in turn. They did not need to hear any more to know what she wanted.

Aidan reached for the satchel hanging on his waist, and he pulled out a small strongbox which he placed on the desk. Sonia gazed at him, almost impatiently, as he pulled out a key and unlocked it. Taking the box into her hands, she threw aside the lock and opened the lid.

Her eyes sparkled as she gazed upon the priceless treasure within: they were as diamonds, mirroring the diamond on the crown of the statue of Spiritua. With gentle hands she took it out of the box and looked it up and down. A grin came over her face as though she had just been presented with the key to the earth itself. Sonia stood up from her chair and took a turn about the room, barely containing her excitement.

"Marvelous…" She was clearly talking more to herself than anyone else. "Simply marvelous…"

Aidan stood up as well, and moved over to Sonia. "It is magnificent, isn't it? Take a look at the engraving by Spiritua Herself…"

Then Aidan made the mistake of trying to take the statue to show the inscription.

As if guarding her own crystallized life from a thief, Sonia turned away from Aidan. In that quick motion, the item slipped out of her hand and careened wildly toward the wall. Juna looked on in horror from her seat. Everything seemed to go in slow motion, even though the entirety of it took only a second. There was a moment of stunned silence, and then an ear-shattering crash. Dust fell like snow from the head of the Spiritua Statue, and the golden object dropped with a clang to the floor. Then there was a blood-curdling cry from Sonia's mouth, and Aidan stepped back in horror.

"This is not the Spiritua Statue!" she bellowed, turning to face them. Her eyes burned with the fury of having been deceived. "No real diamond would shatter so easily!"

By this time the shadowy man had stepped forward. His hands were diving beneath his robes now, searching for something; Juna stood and joined Aidan as he began to edge toward the back of the room. The plan had gone horribly wrong, and all they could think of now was how they were going to get out in one piece.

"Imposters!" Sonia pointed a long, red nail at them, turning her burning gaze to their shadowy guide. "No real archaeologists would make such a juvenile mistake! Rafael! Eliminate them! They have come to infiltrate this place!"

The objects Rafael had been searching for then showed themselves: two curved daggers of hungry steel. He advanced menacingly, undaunted by the idea of a two-on-one fight (for by this time Juna and Aidan had already drawn their weapons, realizing that they would have to fight their way out). This frightened the duo: they knew they had the advantage of numbers, but evidently this mattered little to Rafael.

"I suppose my risk backfired," he hissed, gripping his blades tightly. "But one cannot win every gamble."

Blades pointed down, the daggers and their wielder darted forth with humbling speed. Aidan and Juna only barely dodged in time; Juna's tight dress had been slashed at the shoulder. If she had been a millisecond slower the damage would have been severe. They passed a glance at one another and knew that they had to stay separated in order to divide Rafael's attention. Luckily, he came after Juna first: she was the quicker of the two, and now that she had some idea of her opponent's capabilities, she was able to dance around his blows narrowly but safely.

In the meanwhile, Aidan charged in from behind. Rafael was so busy trying to strike Juna that Aidan felt sure his spear would find its mark. Waiting for the perfect moment did not take too long: Rafael was not covering his back well at all. When Aidan struck, the timing could not have been better.

Or so he thought.

A split second before his attack would have connected, Aidan briefly saw Rafael's head turn. The shadowy man kicked hard with his legs and propelled himself into the air; Aidan's weapon sailed harmlessly underneath. He then landed atop the spear with one leg and used his momentum to spin his body. Rafael's toned leg connected firmly with Aidan's cheek. The pain caused him to drop his weapon, and he spun like a tornado as his body flew to the left. The boy landed with a thud on the ground, sliding hard into the steely wall.

Rafael advanced, preparing to swat out the insect that would no doubt be the least dangerous but the more annoying of the two. When he reached Aidan's fallen body, he flourished his knives and readied himself to stab.

"_Carnage Elegy!_" Juna cried suddenly. A barrage of energy surrounded Rafael, filling every pore of his body. He cried out in pain and found that he could not move his body at all. The power of Juna's music had infiltrated his body and stiffened his muscles momentarily.

"Let's get the hell out of here!" Juna grabbed Aidan's arm and pulled him to his feet, not even giving him a second to recuperate before dragging him toward the door. It was at this point that they realized Sonia had vanished. However, Juna knew that her spell's effect would only last for so long, and thus they did not have the luxury of pondering where Sonia had gone – or why.

It is said that in moments of extreme fear and danger, the human body releases adrenaline, which can lead to extreme acts of bravery and skill, and cause the victim to think with lucidity he or she has never before experienced. This "flee" instinct was kicking in now: as they ran, Juna and Aidan felt as though they had navigated the cold, professional tunnels all their lives. It was almost as though Providence had guided their footsteps, leading them directly back up to the sliding door barring them from the tavern.

Juna let slip a muffled expletive.

"What's the matter?" Aidan asked, looking quizzically at her. He rubbed his wounds and divided his attention between his cursing comrade and the hallway behind them. He knew that they would not hear Rafael's footsteps or even see his body before he was upon them, but his instincts would not allow him to simply leave his back unguarded.

"I don't know how to get back out!"

Aidan suddenly realized that she was right. Rafael had pulled aside a purely-ornamental beer mug to open up the door from the tavern-side, but they had had no indication of how to open it from the complex-side. The walls were not adorned in any way unusual to the rest of the complex. "You don't suppose the door can only be opened from one of those weird magitechnology terminals, do you?"

Juna turned her head and swore she heard someone coming fast down the tunnel. "I hope to Martel not."

Furiously and determinedly she ran her hands along the smooth walls. There had to be a hidden panel or switch that would open the door for them. Aidan took note and did the same. After only a couple of minutes it became apparent that there was no such panel – or if there was, that they had no more time to bother searching for it. Rafael would be on them momentarily.

_Use the card._

"Huh?" Aidan looked around quizzically. "What card?"

Juna gave him a look that clearly questioned his sanity.

_Use the card!_

With a sudden look of realization, Aidan reached behind him and pulled a familiar piece of paper from his back pocket. It was decorated with strange oriental markings that bore no particular meaning to him; but he knew that the card was very special. Shareen had used one just like it to summon a creature when she had saved them from their execution. She had told them to use this one if they were in trouble.

"Well…. Here goes nothing." Aidan held the card aloft and tried to remember how Shareen had used it. It seemed a simple enough procedure; he took a chance, and threw the card forward.

It spun in the air for a moment, tossed about by the force of being thrown, just as any normal card might have. Then, however, it did a most peculiar thing: it stopped, quite on its own, in midair… and then it began to glow. Rays of red light erupted from the card, and it looked vaguely like it had been set on fire. Before long, though, Aidan and Juna could make out the distinct form of a guardian much like the one Shareen had summoned to rescue them.

The creature looked like an almost exact replica of the bird-beast she had summoned back at the Ring of Fire: it was a tall man-vulture with leathery skin, sharp claws, a pointed beak, and a strange wheel on its back; it hovered ominously in the air for it had no legs to speak of. This one, however, was red instead of blue, and a piece of paper draped across one spoke of the wheel carried the symbol for fire.

Aidan did not know how to address the creature, and luckily he did not need to. It seemed to be fully informed of the situation, and it had already prepared an escape route. With a brusque wave of its claw, it signaled the two to stand back; they obeyed, and it faced the wall that they desperately hoped to turn into a door. Then the beast extended its arms and opened wide its toothless jaw. Energy began to form at its palms and it let out a low, long, agonized cry. In a flash of light, a bright burst of flame roared into existence.

Then, the wall was gone.

Aidan and Juna have never since been able to fully explain it. They have tried to reason that the heat created pressure which smashed the door open, or that the heat simply melted the wall entirely. Neither explanation really seemed to make sense, but it didn't matter at the time. They had a clear escape route, and a meager window of opportunity to escape unharmed. As they made their retreat, Juna and Aidan looked back to see if the Guardian would follow: it did not. Apparently it also knew that Rafael was coming for them, and it intended to hold him off for as long as possible.

Unfortunately, the duo's retreat was not yet secured. A small obstacle yet remained: the bartender and a small contingent of men loyal to the Hand of Beatrix. They stood barring Aidan's and Juna's path, wielding whatever odd instruments they had handy: clubs, table legs, broken bottles, and so on. Aidan, however, was in too much pain to fight, and Juna was in no condition to fight off five assailants. The Guardian would have been a good help, but even they agreed that Rafael was the bigger threat.

"I'm afraid I'm gonna have to make you pay for the damage to my wall," the bartender threatened, pounding his fist with a brass knuckle.

Wearily, Juna and Aidan brandished their weapons and prepared for one last fight.

"That ain't no way t'talk to a lady!" a slurred but well-meaning voice called. Juna gasped and looked up to see her bar friends standing up in an imposing group, flexing their muscles and showing off their drunken, but heartfelt, chivalry. "S'time we paid the lady back fer 'er drinks, boys!"

There was a cheer from behind the lead sailor, and they all stepped forward toward the barkeep and his motley crew of muggers. Suddenly Juna and Aidan weren't such a big priority anymore; a loud, violent fight ensued, with ten friendly sailors versus five unfriendly brigands. Although Juna could not help but worry for her new allies, she and Aidan knew that this was not the time to waste the chances they had been given. Quickly and silently they headed for the door.

They had only just passed the threshold into the dark of night when they heard a beastly cry, and a glowing red card appeared in Aidan's hand.

---

In a private quarter of the Hand of Beatrix headquarters, a familiar woman dressed in black kneeled reverently before a lacquered mahogany desk. A figure sat behind the desk, wreathed in the shadows created by the large fire crackling in the fireplace on the wall behind him.

"We have been infiltrated," Sonia said simply, bowing her head in shame. It was as though she was afraid to as much as gaze at her master.

A low chuckle issued forth from the shadowy figure. "Is that so?" The voice was masculine and deep.

Sonia nodded her head. "Yes. There were two of them. They claimed to be freelance archaeologists."

As the beautiful woman recounted the events, of how the Spiritua Statue was clearly a fake, the dark figure nodded his head and drummed his fingers on the thick, expensive desk. "I see," he said finally. "And of course true archaeologists would not be fooled by such an obvious imposter."

Sonia nodded. "Yes. I take full responsibility. I should have been more suspicious of them in the first place. The Spiritua Statue is only a legend…"

"No," her master interrupted with finality. "You did your duty to the Hand of Beatrix. I should be angrier with you, my child, if you had ignored such a luscious opportunity."

Sonia looked up in shock. The firelight danced against her milky face; her eyes sparkled in it as she gazed at her master. "Are you certain…?"

The silhouetted head nodded curtly. "The only thing that matters now is how much those two imposters know, and with whom they are connected."

"But the headquarters…? They found their way out by force. Everyone in the tavern knows…"

A shadowy hand extended, silencing the fear. "Have our men seal the door immediately. Subdue the patrons of the tavern by any means necessary – without killing them, of course – while the task is performed. When they wake up, everything will go on as normal. Nobody will believe a group of drunkards who think they saw something before they passed out from drinking too much."

"Of course." Sonia stood up and nodded her head. "It will be done."

"Sonia," the man said as the woman began to turn away. "What about the intruders?"

She turned her head back to him; an unusual glimmer was in her eyes. "There is no need to fear. The Shadow of Death is upon them."

There was a long moment of silence from her master. He nodded his head and made an amused chuckle. "I see. That will do. Leave me."

Sonia smiled and nodded her head, turning towards the gigantic oak door at the far end of the room. Crossing the carpet, she summoned her strength and exited through it. At her exit, the shadowy figure stood up and faced the fire. The warm, orange light bounced off the short figure's balding forehead as he gazed at its intricate dance.

"None yet has eluded the Shadow of Death," he said solemnly. "I pray that his record will not be tarnished now, of all times…"

Then the man dropped to his knees, clasped his hands solemnly before the fire, and began to pray.

---

Aidan and Juna raced between buildings and down alleys in as random a fashion as possible, knowing that it was the only way they could elude their pursuer. They also knew that they could not return to the Fujibayashi headquarters, for fear of leading Rafael straight to their friends. No; they had to elude him, and kill him if necessary, in order to preserve their mission.

As they ducked into what seemed like the hundredth dark alley of the city, Aidan stopped abruptly and leaned against the wall of one of the neighbouring buildings, panting heavily.

"Aidan!" Juna said in a loud whisper. "We haven't time to stand around!"

The boy threw her a pleading look. "But Juna… I'm so tired," he panted. Aidan took a quick look at their surroundings. They were between two small buildings, two or three stories high, with rows of balconies lining their walls. The apartments inside were dark and quiet. In fact, the entire scene was quite serene. "Besides, I don't see that Rafael guy anywhere. I think we lost him."

Juna walked back towards him, holding her sides and also breathing with evident fatigue. Before she could agree with him, however, she looked slightly upward, agape with fear. "Look out!" she cried.

It all happened so fast. Aidan barely had time to see what all the commotion was about before Juna's slender but powerful form pushed him to the ground. When the dust settled and Aidan righted himself, he was astonished to see Juna pinned against the wall of the building he had been leaning on, a star-shaped shuriken lodged into her shoulder. His eyes raced skyward to see a menacing, cloaked figure standing on the railing of one of the balconies of the adjacent building. Rafael had his curved blades in hand and was preparing to strike.

"How did you find us!" Aidan shouted, brandishing his spear. Rafael's dark, exotic voice chuckled.

"You two have been very amusing prey… but none elude the Shadow of Death for long."

Aidan looked over at Juna; blood trickled profusely down her arm from the wound on her shoulder. He quickly moved over to her and tore a strip of cloth from his shirt; quickly and deftly he removed her from the wall and bandaged the wound as best he could. It would not serve well in the long run, but it would stop the bleeding for now.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. Spinning, he saw that Rafael had leapt from the balcony to the ground – a three-story drop – and had done so completely unfazed. He was advancing on them with his blades in hand. Aidan stood and held his weapon aloft; Juna stood as well, feebly, but Aidan extended a hand to stop her.

"Don't get up," he ordered. There was a resolve in his voice that Juna had not heard before. "I'll take care of him."

She was about to protest, but knew that he was right. Juna was in no condition to fight whatsoever. She also knew that Aidan was no match for Rafael in speed, but he might at least be able to hold him off long enough for the others to reach them. Surely Shareen would have known something was amiss by now.

Without warning, Rafael tore across the alley like a blinding streak of darkness. Aidan could barely keep up with his movements; he suffered a slash to the shoulder as a result of his mostly-failed attempt to dodge. The boy spun, spear gripped in both hands, as he looked for his opponent. Rafael was nowhere to be found.

"Above you!" Juna's voice cried. Aidan looked just in the nick of time to see two more shuriken raining down on him from a second-story balcony to his right. Pushing against the ground with the foot of his spear, he threw himself aside and the two steel blades embedded themselves harmlessly in the floor behind him.

Now that he had a lock on Rafael's position, Aidan was ably prepared for the man's next attack. It came from above: a sheer drop from the balcony, using the momentum to crash his twin blades directly into Aidan. The boy was prepared, however, and brought his spear up to block the attack. He could feel shockwaves pulsing through his arms as a result of abruptly stopping so much kinetic energy, but he used his own counter-momentum as leverage against Rafael. Thrusting out with his arms, he sent the light assassin's body flying into the wall like a rag doll. Surprised at having been countered, Rafael could do nothing to resist; he slammed against the hard, brick building and let out a cry of pain at a feeling he had never felt before.

"Ah, pain… It has been so long," he muttered as he began to right himself.

Aidan would not give him that chance.

Like a flash of light, the spear lashed out in Aidan's hand, aimed directly for the vulnerable heart of his opponent. He struck nothing but stone. Although Rafael's dodge was feeble and slow, it was agile enough to get him out of the way of the attack. Aidan was momentarily stunned by how quick Rafael could move even when he was in pain. In this moment, Rafael vanished once again.

"Damnit!" Aidan cursed, twirling once more and trying to find the Shadow of Death. This time he looked up at the balconies as well, but saw nothing in every direction.

"Behind you! Watch out!"

Aidan spun once again, but not quickly enough this time. He briefly saw two shurikens appear out of thin air and rocket toward him with the force of a bullet. Both of them found their mark, one at each side of his chest. Although his chainmail tabard prevented the worst of the damage, the thin, penetrating blades of the shuriken were able to sink between the steel rings and penetrate the flesh.

As the stunned boy sank to the floor, he saw Rafael reveal himself from underneath his dark cloak. It had made him practically invisible against the dark backdrop of the buildings. He advanced on Juna with a malicious glare in his evil eyes.

"You, my dear, are becoming quite a nuisance," he said coldly. The woman tried to scramble away, but it was no use: Rafael was on top of her in only moments, curved daggers in hand. "I would have killed him that time if not for your interference. But now that he is incapacitated, I shall take the opportunity to ensure that you never bother me again."

As he raised one of his knives into the air, Aidan saw it glimmer in the moonlight. That image sent a strange feeling coursing through his body. Watching the beautiful full moon reflected in that instrument of death made him feel like he was no longer himself. The boy stared off into nothingness, trapped in some sort of illusion.

He was no longer standing between two buildings, engaged in a fight to the death. He was in a forest, draped in moonlight penetrating the leafy canopy; and he was surrounded by a circle of wolves. They all sat around him, staring at him, wagging their tails like domesticated dogs. Occasionally they whined quietly at him. He gazed at each of them in turn, frightened by them at yet, somehow, knowing that they were his allies… his children? Suddenly, all at once, the wolves let out a howling chorus into the night, causing the trees to quiver. Aidan looked up at the moon one last time… an eye, glaring down at him, peering into the very depths of his soul.

The dagger glinted once more and then Rafael brought it down.

"Stop!" Aidan cried. His voice was deep and hoarse now, commanding, powerful. In shock, Rafael stopped the blade in mid-air, only inches from Juna's beautiful neck. She had her eyes closed, fearing the worst, but opened them to see what had happened.

"What did you say?" Rafael demanded, turning his head slowly in Aidan's direction.

"I said… leave her… alone!"

Rafael gazed at his prey with wide-eyed fear as he saw what happened next. As Aidan spoke, his voice grew more throaty and deep with every word. He stood up and threw his spear to the ground. The boy kept his eyes locked on the full moon, glowering above them like an ominous lantern; his body convulsed with pain as it began to transform.

First, his human-like stance became much broader; his arms grew longer and his legs extended and took the appearance of an animal's, with the knee jointed backwards compared to human knees. Long, matted brown hair erupted from all over his body; it was silver and beautiful like the moonlight wreathing him. The two embedded shurikens were pushed out of his flesh and the wounds sealed themselves up immediately. Claws extended painfully from his fingers and toes; a long, toothy snout took the place of his flat nose and mouth. Finally, his eyes became a shade of yellow, and the pupils narrowed to slits. The transformation was complete; Aidan was now more wolf than man.

"Wh—what's this!" Rafael cried in horror, standing up and staggering backwards. "What kind of beast are you!"

Aidan did not answer. He sniffed the air tentatively and then leapt forward, brandishing his claws. Letting out a long, guttural howl, Aidan slashed furiously at Rafael's chest; the swift assassin only barely managed to dodge the attack. A series of blows ensued, and Rafael narrowly eluded each one, taking several gashes to his beautiful black cloak. Before long, however, Aidan had him pinned against a wall with nowhere to run.

"Pl…please! Spare me! I beg of you!"

Aidan growled fiercely. "Spare you… like you would have spared the girl?" He let out a furious howl that forced Rafael to his knees, quivering with fear. Suddenly the werewolf leapt back, and with ninja-like grace he planted his feet on the wall of the adjacent building, suspending himself momentarily like a spider in the air.

"**Beg the Moon for forgiveness!**" The wolf thrusted forth with his powerful hind legs and, reaching Rafael, he grabbed the assassin with his arms and held him tight. Then Aidan kicked again towards the center of the alley. Powerfully he launched Rafael into the air, and the Shadow of Death swore he could almost touch the moon at the apex of his climb. "**Lunar Requiem!**" As Rafael was suspended in mid-air, he heard the cruel cry of a werewolf beneath him. As he gazed up at the moon – closer than it could ever be, an illusion created by the attack as he realized in his last moments – he almost saw it glare at him. It shone brighter than it had ever done before as it reacted to the shrill sound, and a great sphere of energy extended from its surface in all directions. Rafael looked on in amazement and horror as the bright light engulfed him; and then, he ceased to be.

With his energy exhausted, Aidan collapsed to the ground with a whimper. His body rapidly transformed back into a human, which was considerably less painful than the reverse. He was too fatigued and in too much pain to feel any embarrassment at the fact that he was now completely naked as a result of the transformation tearing his clothes and breaking the finely-wrought steel chainmail he had been wearing.

In complete awe, Juna inched towards him. "Aidan…? Are you all right?" When she reached his limp form, she heaved a sigh of relief as she heard his peaceful breaths: he was merely asleep. "I'm glad. But… what the hell was that…?" She glanced fearfully at the moon once more as she took the peaceful-looking boy in her arms. As she walked back towards the Fujibayashi house, something told her she would never see the moon quite the same way again.

---

Juna kicked open the door to the building and quickly made her way downstairs, amid curious looks and horrified stares. The worst of all, however, was the ruckus that ensued when she brought them to the grand table where everyone was still sitting. They all rose simultaneously and ran towards her as she carried the unclothed Aidan into the room

"What happened!" Shareen demanded. "I sensed that the Guardian had been defeated, but for some reason I couldn't get a lock on your position!"

"Did they torture you or somethin'?" Audrey asked bluntly.

A barrage of similar questions ensued, but Juna ignored them all and pushed through the crowd towards the large table. She laid Aidan out upon it and searched the nearby drawers for a towel with which to protect his dignity. Finally, as everyone settled around the table and their furious questions became silenced, Juna told them of what had occurred.

"A… a wolf-man!" Audrey asked, biting her nails. "That's scary! But he always looked so cute!"

Genis stroked his beard and looked curiously at Aidan's peaceful body. "A werewolf… hmmm…"

"A werewolf?" Shard asked, looking concerned at Genis. "You don't mean…"

The old half-elf nodded his head. "I do. The werewolves of legend. It all fits with the prophecy…"

Juna looked at each of them in turn and furrowed her brow. "What do you mean? What are you guys talking about?"

Raven chuckled coldly and nodded his head. "You're right. It does fit." At Juna's cold, demanding stare, he continued. "The scriptures of the Church of Martel say that werewolves will signal Ragnarok, the end of the world."

Juna looked taken aback. "No way. You have _got_ to be joking. You don't think Aidan is… Fenrir!"

Raven shook his head. "No, of course not. Fenrir is supposed to appear at the side of the Queen of Darkness, leading her army that will facilitate Ragnarok."

"Besides," Genis added, "the legends say that Fenrir is a full demon-wolf, not a werewolf."

Shareen, who had been looking deeply confused, raised her hand. "But isn't Fenrir the animal companion of Celsius, the Summon Spirit of Ice?" This was, of course, common knowledge for her and anyone from Mizuho, whose history since the coming of the Great Chieftaness Sheena has been deeply entwined with the eight Summon Spirits.

Genis shrugged. "It is likely a mere coincidence. As I recall, that Fenrir was an elemental created by Celsius herself. The Summon Spirits were well capable of such things, and many stories tell of them doing so, especially in times of war or other dire need."

"At any rate," Shard said, "Aidan's transformation is a terrible omen. The scriptures say, 'When werewolves roam the lands and threaten the lives of man; this is the beginning of the End.'"

"But… wait!" Juna protested. "How can you say that? He didn't threaten anyone… he saved me! If it wasn't for him, I'd be dead now! And so would he!" She looked down at him nervously, her face marked with worry-worn care.

Raven looked calmly at her. "He killed Rafael."

"Wh…what?"

"He killed Rafael," the man repeated, running a hand through his hair. "He took the life of a man."

"But he did it to save me!" Juna protested, standing up from the table and glaring at Raven.

"That's irrelevant."

"How can you say that!" Her voice shook and her eyes trembled through tears as she spoke.

Genis slammed his fist on the table. A peal of thunder erupted somewhere overhead; everyone wondered whether it was only their imagination. "That's enough!" Juna and Raven looked at him shamefully. "The fact is that Aidan's transformation _does_ support the prophecy." Before Juna could launch another protest, Genis barreled forward. "That does _not_ mean, however, that he is an agent of destruction, or that his purpose is to spearhead the armies of darkness. The scriptures say nothing of the sort."

"That's true," Shard added as an afterthought. "They only say that the appearance of werewolves signals the beginning of Ragnarok. Nowhere in the scriptures are the werewolves connected to Ragnarok in any other way."

"Wow… this sure is a lot to take in," Audrey said, amazed. "I thought we were just investigating the Pope… now suddenly we're caught up in the end of the world? Creepy."

"You don't think… they're connected, do you?" Bartheo asked gruffly, looking uncharacteristically concerned. Juna hovered almost protectively near Aidan, as if shielding him from the barrage of recent accusations without even meaning to.

"There's no way of knowing right now," Shard said simply. "For now, we should continue with our original mission. We can neither speed up nor slow down the process of Ragnarok, certainly not with our current level of knowledge. We must let things progress a little further before we decide what to do."

Juna nodded her head curtly. Before she began her report, she requested some clothes and a bed for Aidan, who needed his rest, saying that obviously the tabletop was not the place to do so. Her saviour was accommodated, brought upstairs by a pair of male servants who retired him to a room on the upper floor.

"Now," Shard began after the deed had been done, "what have you gathered about the location of their headquarters?"

"It was in the tavern as you predicted," Juna answered with a nod. "There is a hidden door in a corner of the tavern, away from the bulk of the patrons. Hand of Beatrix members were able to use it freely because the bartender and many of his patrons were on their payroll. Anyone who thought they saw a secret door open in the back of the tavern would have to put their word against a reputable man's like his. As you can imagine, nobody would take the word of a likely-drunken man over a sober bartender who knows his bar inside and out."

Shard nodded his head slowly. "It does seem like a good cover," he said at last. "Unless the drunkard decided to prove what he saw by opening the door himself – exactly what we need to do. How do we do this?"

Juna suddenly gave a very sheepish grin and looked down nervously. "Well… er… you see, Rafael opened the door by pulling a hidden lever disguised as a beer mug on a shelf filled with glasses. But when Sonia discovered that the Spiritua Statue was a fake, we had to make a hasty retreat, and… since we didn't know how to open the door from the _inside_…"

Shareen let out a bubbly, amused laugh. "You followed my advice, huh?"

Juna looked at her quizzically, and then remembered how Aidan claimed to be hearing voices. She recalled that Shareen could communicate with them telepathically as long as they had a card. "Uh… yeah, I suppose we did."

"You don't mean you—" Shard said, astonished.

"—blew up the door? Yeah."

The ninja's eyes went wide with shock and anger. "You did what!" He rose and stared in disbelief.

"Oh, Shard, calm down," Shareen said, buffing her nails absently, completely unfazed by his outburst. "It's not that big a deal."

"What are you talking about, Shareen? It's a huge deal! Now everyone in the tavern knows there's a secret entrance there!"

His sister looked up at him and quirked a brow. "Yeah? And? Like Juna said, nobody's gonna believe a bunch of drunkards who say they think they saw someone blow a hole through the wall. The Hand of Beatrix members in the base are probably going to incapacitate them somehow and repair the door so that there will be no credence to their story."

Shard shook his head. "That's even worse! It's likely that they won't _repair_ the door – they'll seal it off to prevent it from being investigated again! All our work will have been for nothing!"

"Oh, please. You're always so melodramatic, Shard," Shareen said, rolling her eyes. "Look. I'm sure the entire base was in a panic at first. It would have taken them at least a half an hour to get their act together. They've probably only just finished administering their treatment to the poor patrons to knock them out, so they're nowhere near having finished repairing the door."

"Then we have to move quickly," Genis said at last. "Juna, you said you met with Sonia… but what happened to her?"

"She got away during our fight with Rafael. I don't know where she went. To contact her superior, maybe."

"Then she may still be there," Genis reasoned, "and her superior may be with her."

Shareen stood up with an excited fire in her eyes. "Then this is the perfect chance! We might be able to catch Sonia herself, and if not, we can at least catch one of her subordinates and get some info on their operations! Let's go!"

"I agree," Shard said calmly. "But what about Aidan?"

"I will stay with him," Juna volunteered. "I'm in no condition to fight, anyway. I need a good bit of rest. I'll watch over him and explain the situation when he wakes up."

"Then it's settled," Shard said with finality. "Let's move out, everyone. We haven't an instant to waste."


	6. The Missing Link, Found!

**Tales of Harmonia**

**The Missing Link, Found!**

It was amazing how quickly the group was able to gather and arrange themselves for the task at hand. It seemed like only five minutes had passed since their meeting, and yet Shard, Shareen, Raven, Genis, and Bartheo were gathered outside the Black Eye tavern. They had their backs pressed to the wall, anticipating their next move.

After a few moments, Audrey's slender frame appeared from around the side of the building. She hopped up to them energetically and beamed proudly. "They haven't sealed it up yet," the girl announced, "but they're working on it. Everyone else inside is knocked out. Shareen was right about that."

Shard closed his eyes in contemplation and nodded. "Okay. I may not like it, but we'll have to charge in. The workers need to be incapacitated quickly and silently; otherwise, they will alert the rest of the compound. We won't be able to remain unnoticed for too long in any event, but the longer, the better."

"Alright," Shareen said, "the first thing those workers are going to do – the ones that can't fight, anyway – is retreat back into the compound. We need to block off the door. Shard, that's your domain." Her twin nodded his head curtly. "Then we need to take out the workers, by any means necessary—"

"Ooh, but don't kill them!" Audrey interrupted. "They don't look like full-fledged members or anything. They're probably just hirelings who don't know what's really going on. Knocking them out should be fine."

"Hmmm." Genis stroked his flowing, white beard. "I agree; however, we'll need a couple of us to stay behind, then, and watch them after they've been incapacitated. Of course, if fewer of us infiltrate the base, the better our chances at remaining stealthy."

"Then let me begin the festivities," Shard said with a wry smile. He moved over to the window and peered in tentatively, making sure none of the workers were looking at him. When all was clear, he signaled to the others. They poised themselves at the door. "I call upon the servant of Mother Earth! I summon thee – come, Gnome!"

With an ornate flourish of his arms, Shard gathered a large amount of energy and summoned a large mole-like creature inside the tavern. Positioned at the mouth of the hallway the workers were diligently trying to seal up, Gnome brandished his shovel and let out a hoot. "Alright, baby! It's time to rock!"

Shard raised his arm and then quickly dropped it, signaling the others to burst through the door and begin tearing things up. Once they were inside, he swept the area with his eyes once more and then followed them.

The scene inside was one of chaos. Although the workers were unarmed, they were now cornered animals, a condition which brings out the worst in any human. Genis quickly set after the incapacitated patrons, examining each of them in turn to ensure that they had not been killed by the Hand of Beatrix. Meanwhile, everyone else was busy fighting the workers, some of whom were futilely trying to push past Gnome's massive form.

Audrey was particularly energized, and leapt immediately into action with her gymnast's ribbon. As she danced, the beautiful piece of red ribbon responded in kind. It weaved through the crowd and singled out one particular opponent who was brandishing a broken table leg – rusty nails included – and battering Gnome with it. The summon spirit was preparing to slam the man with his shovel, despite being ordered not to; even he could only take so much. The worker looked surprised as the piece of cloth wrapped itself tightly under his arms and around his chest, and then lifted him helplessly in the air.

"_Sunrise Drop!"_ Audrey cried. She lifted the man into the air with her ribbon, and then the cloth loosened entirely, allowing him to fall freely the nine or ten feet to the floor with a sickening crash. She wasn't finished yet, however; the young girl lashed out with the ribbon and grabbed a second worker, once again raising him high above her. "_Sunset Slam!_" This time, with a strength that was certainly unexpected coming from her, she grabbed the ribbon in both hands and dragged the man down. There was another horrifying thud as his body was slammed against the floor. Both of her victims now lay incapacitated, still breathing but very much out of the game, on the floor of the tavern.

Raven was finding the fight a rather amusing challenge: he was darting around one particular worker and occasionally striking at him with only the flat of his long katana. The grin painted on his attractive features suggested that he was enjoying the opportunity to fight in a way he had never done before. Although he was doing considerably less damage this way, his opponent was absolutely no match for him in speed, so it was a clearly one-sided battle.

Bartheo was not so amused at not being able to cleave his opponents twain. He was fighting with the backside of his axes, ramming them into his victim's stomachs and causing them to cough up large amounts of phlegm and, occasionally, blood. None of them stood much of a chance against him, but he no doubt felt as though he was not fighting to his full strength.

Elsewhere, Shareen and Shard made a force to be reckoned with. Watching each other's backs, none of the workers were able to get anywhere near them. Ocasionally Shard would grab Shareen's legs and toss her up into the air, at which point she would magically multiply her cards and throw them like rainfall onto the heads of the enemies around her. Suffice to say it did not take them long to finish their part of the fight.

Before long, the fight ended with a small horde of Hand of Beatrix hirelings lying incapacitated on the floor, some looking so battered that it was amazing they were still alive. It was certainly a less subtle entrance than Shard had hoped, but they did not have the advantage of being choosy right now. Time was of the essence. Once they were certain everyone had been taken care of, Genis and Raven volunteered to stay behind and make sure none of the hirelings woke up and decided to report what had happened. At Shard's command, Gnome vanished once more, and the rest of the party darted down the dark tunnel into the thick of the compound.

---

Back in the Fujibayashi house, Juna was sitting on the edge of her bed, which lay beside Aidan's. She looked at him nervously, wondering how he was doing. Occasionally, the boy sank into feverish dreams, tossing and turning and even screaming, but never waking up. She wondered what sorts of nightmares could have such an effect on him.

Arthur entered the room silently, with his staff in hand. Gracefully the man crossed the room, looking very concerned at both of his patients. "Juna, please get some rest," he requested. She hesitated for a moment, but eventually succumbed and lay down on the bed. "Hmm…" the priest said as he examined the sleeping Aidan. His fingers ran along the boy's body, checking his vitals. "He seems perfectly fine. Not a wound to be found on him."

"Are you sure? He was hit pretty hard by those two shuriken," Juna noted, sitting up once more. Arthur looked reprimanding at her and she lay back down.

"They must have glanced off his armor. There isn't even the slightest trace of a wound. Not of any kind, not anywhere on his body. As far as I can tell, the only problem he has right now is extreme fatigue." Aidan let out a scream again, and Arthur put a hand on his forehead. "Well, extreme fatigue and feverish dreams. Perhaps this will soothe him." The priest's hand took on a light-bluish hue and emitted a faint humming sound. Almost immediately, Aidan stopped tossing and turning and returned to a peaceful sleep. Afterwards, Arthur turned and moved around Juna's bed.

"So he's okay?" she inquired, turning her head to track Arthur as he moved across the room.

"He'll be fine," was the reply as the priest reached her bed. "You, on the other hand…" He quickly moved his hands towards her makeshift bandage and removed it, revealing a rather gruesome-looking gash on her shoulder. "Tsk tsk. This is a nasty wound. But not to worry, I'll have it patched up in a moment."

He lifted the head of his staff up and placed it against Juna's wound. She winced from the pain briefly; but after a few moments, soothing energy flowed through her, and it didn't hurt anymore. In fact, she felt better than she had in a long time. What's more, the bloody gash stitched itself up at an impossible rate, until she could hardly tell that she had been wounded at all.

"There!" Arthur announced with a nod. "Good as new. Do try to get some rest, though. I can heal the physical part of the injury well enough, but that kind of wound can create mental trauma, as well as energy deprivation, as the body frantically attempts to heal the damage itself. Trust me, one or two hours' sleep and you'll be feeling good as new."

"But I already feel good as new! Better, even!"

Arthur shook his head sternly, but chuckled a bit. "Agitate yourself and we'll see just how good you feel. Not even magic can work miracles, Juna."

The woman sighed in defeat and tried to close her eyes. She could feel Arthur's presence, staying behind to watch and make sure she didn't disobey him. After a while, the healer glided out of the room again, and she could just make out his footsteps on the creaky wooden staircase to the basement. Like a child defying her parents, Juna immediately sat up and turned to face Aidan again.

"He sure doesn't look okay," she noted to herself, watching helplessly as her knight's chaotic tossing and turning resumed.

---

In the meanwhile, the group of 4 was deep into its exploration of the cold, metallic tunnels of the Hand of Beatrix. It was unlike anything they had ever seen before. Every tunnel looked exactly like the last, until after only a short time they had little idea of where they had come or where they were going. However, this was the furthest thing from their minds: right now, all they needed to do was find Sonia and figure out what the Hand of Beatrix was really up to.

They knew that every passing moment meant a smaller and smaller chance of finding their target. Of course, their description of her – "a tall, beautiful woman in a black gown" – suggested that she would stick out like a sore thumb in a place like this. There certainly couldn't be too many women dressed for a ball wandering around these cold, alien tunnels.

"Jeez, we're not getting anywhere!" Audrey complained after a while, leaning exhaustedly against a metal wall.

"She's right," Bartheo agreed gruffly. "We've hardly seen anyone since we got here. Maybe they evacuated."

Shard stopped beside them and looked down at the floor in contemplation. "I find it highly unlikely. They had no warning of our arrival… I doubt they'd evacuate just because Juna and Aidan blew up their door."

"Maybe they thought it wasn't worth the risk to stay here anymore, now that suspicions would arise about their presence," Shareen considered.

"Who caaaares?" Audrey whined, stamping her foot. "It's not like we have to just guess what they did! Why don't we find out for sure?"

Shard looked at her curiously. "What do you mean?" he inquired.

"The magitechnology terminals! I'm no whiz or anything, but I know a fair bit about all those sorts of artifacts," she explained. "I learned about them at the academy in New Meltokio. I could probably at least check their records or something. Shouldn't be too tough."

Shareen stepped forward with an annoyed expression. "Well why didn't you bring it up before? You could have saved us tons of time! For all we know Sonia's gotten away by now!" As the ninja-woman fumed, Audrey heaved a big sigh and extended her hand for silence.

"You're so melodramatic, Shareen," Audrey said, flashing a playful wink in Shard's direction. "Two reasons I didn't bring it up before: one, I'm not sure if I can do it; and two, if an unauthorized person – a.k.a. moi – accesses a terminal, it could set off an alarm or something. Now that we're kind of at our wit's end, though, we haven't got a lot of options."

"Well, there's one of those… those… _things_ in there," Bartheo said sternly, pointing towards one of the strange, sliding doors that separated each room from the connecting hallways. As everyone gathered around, they could see the bizarre, greenish glow from the screens lining the terminals. Audrey stepped forward and the doors slid open to greet her.

"Okay!" she exclaimed, cracking her knuckles and stepping towards one of keyboards in front of a glowing screen. "Time to get to work!"

Everyone stood back in amazement as Audrey's fingers flew across the keyboard. The screen reacted almost magically; every input made on the keys somehow appeared on the screen. None of them could explain it; magitechnology was a science of ages past, not used since it almost destroyed the world. Things of _this_ level, especially, had not been seen in Aselia since the time of the Great Heroes, before the two worlds had become one.

"Let's see, let's see…" she muttered to herself, eyes scouring the glowing screen independently of her fingers dancing across the keypad. "Come on, baby… record logs, announcements, give me anything! Ooh – this is interesting…"

"What, what!" Shareen demanded, crowding behind Audrey and staring incoherently at the words on the screen.

"Well, I couldn't find exactly what we were looking for, but—"

"You couldn't? Damn it!" Shareen stamped her foot furiously.

"—**but**, I found something equally interesting to make up for it," Audrey noted with due annoyance. She tapped on the keyboard a few more times, and suddenly the words changed to pictures.

"It's a map," Shard said. "Of this complex, Audrey?"

The girl nodded. "Yup! This… is us," she said, typing a few more commands; a flashing dot appeared in a rectangular box on the holographic projection.

"What? That's just a dot. We don't look like that," Bartheo protested, crossing his arms and huffing in disbelief. He was clearly not amused. He never was.

Audrey giggled. "Silly Bartheo! That's not actually _us_. It just shows where we are on the map! And, as it turns out, Sonia's still here!" She danced across the keypad once more, and another dot appeared, this one a different colour, flashing more slowly. This one was in a room much larger than the one they were in, but as it turned out, they weren't very far away. Sonia was at the "top" of the base as far as the map went, and they were only a few rooms away. Better yet, there didn't appear to be a way she could get out without having to pass near them. "Turns out she has some kind of locator on her. I guess her comrades have to be able to find her at all times or something."

"Well, if she's here, and we're here, then… we can still catch her!" Shareen grinned and regained the passionate fire in her eyes. "Let's go!"

There were no disagreements. With a cheer of victory, the group barreled out of the room, completely unaware of the silent, ominous, blinking red light atop the magitechology console they had just been using.

---

A blurry world came into view as Aidan opened his eyes. He blinked a few times to order the strange scene into focus, and then realized that he was laying in a warm, comfortable bed, completely unaware of where he was. "_God… this is turning into a trend with me._" Try though he might, Aidan was unable to recall the events that led up to his unconsciousness. He could only remember running… a fight?... and then blackness.

"Aidan! You're awake!" a familiar voice cried from beside him. With much effort, he turned his head to the left and saw Juna sitting on the side of her bed. More memories came flooding back; there was definitely a fight, with the assassin from whom they had been running. He wounded Juna… but there was no bandage on her shoulder anymore.

"_He wounded me, too!_" But when he sat up and checked, there wasn't even a scratch on his torso at all. "Ungh… what happened?"

Juna hopped the short gap between their beds and sat beside Aidan. "You mean you don't remember? Well… I guess it was a pretty crazy night. I don't even really know what happened, to tell you the truth."

Before she could begin to remind him of what had happened, Arthur came sauntering into the room. "What happened? I heard nois—oh, Aidan! You're awake!" The priest quickly crossed the room and planted himself beside Aidan's bed, ignoring the fact that Juna was completely ignoring his orders for bed-rest. "How are you feeling?"

"Uh… fine, fine. A bit dizzy… and I have _no_ idea what happened… but otherwise I've never felt bet—AH!"

Suddenly, Aidan let out a cry and doubled over in pain, grabbing furiously at the back of his left shoulder as though scraping the flesh from his bones would somehow hurt less than whatever he was clawing at. Thinking quickly, Arthur let a surge of energy rush through the boy's body, which brought an end to his pain and calmed him considerably. Thus soothed, Aidan's hand was easy to remove from his shoulder. Arthur quickly moved around the bed to examine the problem area.

"What on earth…"

He ran his hand across a strange, black bruise that had somehow appeared on Aidan's shoulder. The marking was a perfect crescent moon, and it had certainly not been there when he was first brought up into the room, nor when Arthur examined him initially. He thought it possible that the bruise had simply taken time to manifest itself, and was perhaps subdued by the initial waves of healing magic he had used to soothe Aidan's nightmares. However, the bishop was not so concerned with how the bruise had manifested itself as with _why_ it had done so: indeed, it practically confirmed Aidan's role as one of the werewolves of prophecy.

"What the hell is that?" Juna inquired worriedly. "That's a pretty oddly-shaped bruise."

"Yes, it is," Arthur agreed. "And I think it may confirm more about our situation than we had thought."

"About… about Ragnarok, you mean?"

Arthur nodded his head. "Yeah. According to the scriptures, the second phase of Ragnarok occurs when the Alpha Wolf, Fenrisulfr, bearing the 'kiss of the crescent moon,' enters the world. As the scriptures say, he will then 'banish the minions of darkness with his silver claws and defend the purest of humankind.'"

Juna looked wide-eyed at Arthur and then at Aidan, realizing what he meant. "But that's… that's exactly what Aidan did for me! Rafael was a 'minion of darkness'!"

"Yes," Arthur said calmly, standing from the bed. "But this is not a good omen."

"What? Why not? You Fenrisulfr is supposed to defend humanity against the darkness, right?"

"I did, but there are two reasons why I say it is a terrible omen: firstly, Fenrisulfr's banishing of the minion of darkness is the spark which ignites the War of Ends. Secondly, this means we're already in the _second_ phase of Ragnarok, not the first."

"Oh, no…" Juna said, shaking her head. "That can't be true… so… because he saved me, the War of Ends is about to happen? Damn it… this is all my fault. If I had just been stronger, he wouldn't have had to fight Rafael, and—"

"You take too much credit," Arthur interrupted coldly. "It has nothing to do with your own personal strength. Fenrisulfr would have manifested himself sooner or later. In fact, I think he would have manifested himself in that battle whether you had been wounded or not. It is true that Rafael's assault on you is probably what triggered the compassion that is indicative of Fenrisulfr, but it is very possible that he would have appeared anyway in order to 'banish the minions of darkness'."

Juna was silent for a long while, looking down at Aidan, who was no longer sleeping, but was clearly not listening to or comprehending anything they were saying. "_Aidan Wolfe, huh. Looks like your name is more than just a coincidence_."

"How are you feeling, Juna?" Arthur said, changing the subject. He glanced at her shoulder and ran a finger along the skin where the wound had been. She did not flinch at all, and the wound was completely sealed up.

"Much better, thanks."

"Then come downstairs, please. I think it would be best to leave him for now. If we tell him about any of this in his current state…"

The woman nodded her head and stood up slowly. "Yeah, you're right. We shouldn't overload him until he's feeling better." Taking the young priest's arm, she made her way toward the stairs. Glancing back one last time before exiting, she said, "Poor guy. I can't even imagine how he'll react to this…" Then the pair descended the wooden staircase and left their ominous comrade to rest.

---

"We've got you now, Sonia!" Shareen bellowed as the group pushed through the door to the large room she was in. Dressed all in black as they had been told, the woman was standing before a large, extravagant desk. Apparently, they had interrupted an important conversation; she spun around quickly and looked furious and shocked, and a shadowy figure sitting at the desk behind her glanced in their direction.

"Who are…?" Upon getting a more focused look at Shard and Shareen, Sonia let out a clear, horrible shriek of anger and advanced on them threateningly. "The Fujibayashi twins! You dare to show yourself here!" The woman turned her head to the shadowy figure that was already standing up. "Please use the passageway to get out of here! I'll get rid of them."

In silent compliance, the silhouette pressed something on the mantle of the fireplace. Immediately, the roaring flames died down, and everyone could just barely make out his short, thin figure as he escaped down the hidden tunnel therein. None of them got a clear look at him, neither in the light of the fire which cast a shadow over his features, nor in the darkness of the tunnel through which he had escaped. As soon as he was out of sight, the flames flickered back to life once more, and they knew their quarry was gone.

"I don't know what you fools think you'll accomplish here," Sonia bellowed, extending her arms. Her beautiful diamond bracelets, one on each arm, grew in size and began to spin quickly in orbit around her wrists. They could hear the sounds of the very air around the jewelry being torn to shreds. "But allow me to be the one to dash your idiotic hopes right now!"

With unexpected speed, the beautiful vixen leapt forward at the group. In only two bounds she passed the full length of the room and found herself directly in striking distance of them. Sonia planted her heeled foot into the carpet and swung hard, throwing her left leg directly into Shard's face. The agile ninja was able to parry the attack quite easily by grabbing her leg, but he was not prepared for his opponent to transfer the momentum to the rest of her body. She used it to carry herself into the air and crash her other foot directly into the side of his head. With a deafening crack, the man spun sideways and landed hard on the floor.

Bartheo let out a growl and charged in with his twin axes hungry for action. He brought them forcefully over Sonia's head, but without batting an eyelash she raised her hands and bared her wrists. With a horrifying, ear-shattering sound, her whirring bracelets grinded against his steel axes. They turned every Newton of force directly back at Bartheo, sending him flying as though he had just been knocked away by a giant.

"Is this the best you can do!" she taunted with a shrill, victorious laugh. "I can't believe Rafael had so much trouble with your comrades!"

Shareen screamed and lunged forth. Her enchanted cards were already in hand, ready for the attack; however, she knew that her weapons were no match for Sonia's diamond-bladed bracelets. To catch the woman off guard, Shareen pivoted on her leg and tripped up Sonia, causing the taller woman to lift off the ground and tip backwards. With supreme agility, however, their opponent planted her right hand into the ground and suspended herself in a handstand. Instantly the bracelet on that hand increased in size once more and descended until it was scraping hideously against the ground. "Have a nice trip! _Diamond Wave!_"

Three equivalent waves of energy erupted from the ring of the bracelet, tearing outward in all directions and knocking Shareen and Audrey off their feet. The bracelet returned to its original size and position on Sonia's wrist, and the woman flipped back into an upright position, posing confidently over their fallen bodies. The four of them struggled to get up, knowing that they had to be much more careful this time.

"What a bunch of darlings! I didn't know you enjoyed this so much! Well, if you want to come back for more…" She extended her arms and spread her palms wide. The two diamond bracelets began spinning more violently, and slowly Sonia brought her arms together. In a single moment, the two bracelets suddenly collided with each other and shattered into hundreds of jagged pieces. "_Gemstorm!_" On her command, the rain of stones barraged them, and with much trouble they were able to avoid the brunt of the attack. Bits and pieces of Sonia's bracelets were embedded in the floor – but only for a few moments. The woman snapped her fingers, and obediently the shards lifted up and reformed into her two dangerous, spinning bracelets.

"Damn… she's tough," Shareen grunted, forcing herself to her feet.

"And while she toys with us," Audrey pointed out, "her boss is getting away!"

"Hahaha!" Sonia laughed assertively, throwing her head back in complete amusement. "He's long gone by now! You'll have to get past _me_ to follow him, and you—UGH!"

She was interrupted by a powerful kick to her backside. Sonia slid across the rough carpet and let out a cry of shock as she finally came to a stop. Turning around, she saw a strange blue woman with short hair and combat boots facing her.

"I hate when bad guys give such overconfident speeches," the figure said, running a hand through her hair. Her crystalline eyes returned their icy gaze to Sonia, and there was a stark determination – and a hint of amusement – hidden within them.

"C…Celsius!" Shareen cried, looking over to see her brother still in his casting position. Apparently he had been able to summon Celsius without attracting Sonia's attention.

"That's right. If you don't mind, it's time I teach her who the _real_ frost queen is around these parts."

Sonia looked up in horror as Celsius flourished her arms and slammed one palm into the ground.

"It's over! _Absolute Zero!_"

In four directions around her, waves of icicles lurched forth, forming themselves out of nothing and freezing the air around them. With only a brief moment to brace herself for the impact, Sonia crossed her arms in front of her. Diamond gnawed against impossibly-hard ice, and the two equally-opposing forces were thrown backwards; Sonia slammed hard into the opposite wall of the room, while Celsius' ice wave merely crashed back upon itself and subsided.

"That'll teach you," Celsius gloated. Crossing her arms and looking satisfied, the summon spirit dissipated into pure energy and vanished.

The others didn't need to be told that this was their cue to strike. Sonia was still reeling from the pain of the attack, and she was barely able to stand up. Audrey waved her ribbon and it obediently darted directly for Sonia. Before she could resist, the red cloth bound her arms tightly to her sides. Although Audrey had expected this would cause her bracelets to tear into her own flesh, they somehow slipped off her wrists at the perfect moment and began to orbit around her body of their own accord.

"It looks like they're enchanted so that they cannot harm Sonia!" Shard observed, joining the group once more.

"Doesn't matter to me! As long as she can't move, she's finished!" Shareen shouted. She flipped backwards through the air and landed gracefully on Shard's shoulders. He grabbed her at the ankles and heaved her into the air, a much easier task in a room as tall as this one. "_Storm Seal!_"

The one card she threw from her hand suddenly multiplied into many, and all of these, each sharp as a blade, rained down upon Sonia. The woman was still immobilized by Audrey's ribbon, but as she looked up at the barrage of cards, she did not show any fear. "If you think that will work," she boasted, "think again!"

Suddenly, the two bracelets grew several times larger, and they positioned themselves around her body so that they were orbiting in the shape of a large X. Sonia didn't even need to move her body; the bracelets did so on their own, changing shape, direction, and location to slice every single card into nothingness as it approached. It was as though Shareen had thrown her weapons directly into a shredder. For their finale, the bracelets double-teamed Audrey's ribbon, tearing it to pieces and freeing Sonia from her bondage. The two bracelets resumed their obedient orbit of her wrists.

"Do you see now that it is hopeless to resist the Hand of Beatrix?" she said, advancing once more. "Surrender to us now. I would so hate to get your blood all over this nice carpet." The bracelets whirred threateningly like buzzsaws.

"The hell we will!" Bartheo protested. He glanced over at Audrey. "Let's do it!"

The girl nodded quickly and flourished her ribbon, which had also re-grown as Sonia's bracelets had. She lashed out at Bartheo, and the weapon tied itself around his legs. He did not resist. Then Audrey gathered an enormous amount of strength and began to spin Bartheo around like a toy ball on a string. The only thing he did was extend his axes so that it was as though Audrey was spinning a very large blade in her hands. Although Shard and Shareen had no idea what she was doing, they quickly leapt out of the radius of her attack. Sonia stood immobilized.

"What's this!" Suddenly, Audrey brought her human weapon down low against the ground, swinging him around at a perfect radius to reach Sonia. His axes were poised at her ankles, and Sonia knew that at his current velocity he could easily cleave her feet right out from under her. She just barely brought her left arm down in time, and the diamond bracelet caught the attack.

This time, however, there was too much force for her to counter. Although he did no physical damage, Bartheo barreled directly underneath her, causing her to lose her balance and sending her tumbling to the ground. Audrey swung the man high up into the air again, until he was suspended almost directly above her.

"**_Unison Attack: Grand Cleaver!_**" they cried together.

Audrey brought the ribbon down hard, and Bartheo responded by adjusting his axes accordingly – the blades faced _toward_ him, not toward his target, as his intent was not to kill this time. Sonia gazed upwards, a paralyzing sense of fear filling her. If she didn't move, she would be dashed to pieces by the combination of his axes and the velocity of his movement.

"It's over for you!" screamed Bartheo as he tore through the air.

In that final moment, the flats of his axes slammed hard into the metallic ground, digging in so deep that flakes of steel flew up into the air and waves of kinetic energy almost knocked everyone off their feet. Sonia, however, was nowhere near the centre of the attack.

"If you think it will be that easy, you're dead wrong!" Sonia gloated with a laugh. She had rolled away at precisely the right moment to avoid the attack without them knowing it. The two diamond-bladed bracelets ripped through the air and once again sliced at Audrey's ribbon. The tension that had kept Bartheo's body stable now gave way all at once, and his body flipped over, rolling until he collided with the wall; his axes remained stuck in the floor, deep in the hole they had created.

"How did she move so quickly?" Audrey shouted in complete disbelief. "There's no way she could have regained her balance so easily!"

But Sonia was already in motion, dashing across the now-destroyed plush carpet towards Audrey. "This is what it's like to fight one of the Black Five!" Before Audrey could react, Sonia had brought her arm down diagonally in a chop at the girl's neck. The whirring, diamond blade reached her flesh with a hideous gnashing, and Audrey's innocent scream banished the shocked silence.

Before too much damage could be done, Sonia gasped as she felt a large force being applied to her right arm. Looking down, she saw that Shareen had slid underneath her and had thrust upwards with her foot, gathering a surprising amount of force. Sonia's arm was forced away from her bleeding target, and she reeled backwards in shock and pain.

"And this is what it's like to fight the people of Mizuho," growled Shareen. Her voice had lost its usual friendly qualities; she was now all business, and the dark anger in her voice reflected this. Bartheo rushed over to tend to his fallen comrade, and Shard accompanied him. Audrey was bleeding profusely, and Sonia's attack had easily torn through several bones and muscles in her right shoulder.

Sonia realized that, even though she had not succeeded in severing the heart muscles as she had planned, enough damage had been done; it would take both Bartheo and Shard just to stop the bleeding and subdue her immense pain. "Looks like it's just you and me now, girl," she taunted, resting a hand on her hip. Despite the immense battle that had just taken place, Sonia did not look tired in the slightest. Shareen, however, was panting heavily: a mixture of shock, worry, and fatigue. "Hardly what I'd call a fair fight, but try to put on a good show, okay?"

The woman laughed and leapt into action. As she moved, her right bracelet slid off her arm and slipped onto her ankle instead. Shareen knew this would give her even more variability in her attacks; now her kicks were just as deadly as her chops and thrusts. "_I have to avoid those blades…_" Shareen thought to herself, readying for the attack. "_She now has one blind spot on each half of her body… I just have to stay in those blind spots!_"

The first attack was a kick; Sonia propelled herself through the air and brought her right leg down hard over Shareen's head. With split-second timing, the ninja rolled to the right, causing the kick – and the deadly anklet with it – to hit nothing but floor. Utilizing the momentum of her roll, Shareen spun and slammed the back of her foot hard into the back of Sonia's unguarded left leg. Taken aback by the sudden movement, Sonia fell over backwards, but once again righted herself by standing on her left hand.

"You should know by now that won't work!" she gloated. Her bracelet began to whirl and shred the ground beneath her. "_Diamond Wave_!"

"And _that_'s not going to work a second time, either!" Shareen cried. As the three waves of energy rippled towards her, she kicked her legs and flew high into the air. "_Storm Seal_!" she cried. Throwing another card, it multiplied into hundreds of bladed weapons raining down on Sonia.

"_No! I can't react in time!_" The cards rained down hard, and Sonia took the brunt of the attack. It felt like hundreds of knives were tearing across her skin. Staggering from the pain, she launched herself backwards and landed weakly on her feet. "Nice trick, girl. Looks like you're ready to get serious!"

Erupting with a dark, echoing laugh, Sonia began to lift off the floor, hovering in the air. Her bracelets slid off her arm and leg, and once again they grew and grew until one was slightly larger than the other. One of the bracelets eclipsed her body vertically, and the larger one eclipsed it horizontally, so that she was essentially floating within a cross-shaped sphere. "_Gyrosphere_!" she cried. "Let's see how you handle this!"

Sonia lowered herself until the vertical wheel dug into the floor, shearing through it as easily as if it were mere dirt. As she gestured with her hand, the massive contraption lurched forward. Shareen planned her move carefully; if she positioned her body incorrectly, even if she rolled away from the vertical blade, the horizontal one would carve her up easily. Pushing herself against the floor and staying low, she was able to avoid them both with relative ease.

Sonia didn't stop to admire her opponent's footwork, however. She simply made a wide turn about the room, leaving a deep wedge in her wake, and doubled back on Shareen's position. "_If I can just get into one of those blind spots, maybe I can knock her down_!" Shareen thought, eyeing her opponent carefully. Taking the only opportunity available, she spun on her heel and brought her other leg directly into Sonia's legs, hoping to tip her over. The attack connected, and the strange gyroscopic contraption wobbled as Sonia lost her balance.

However, as if making up for her lack of balance, the two blades adjusted position and size in such a way that they did not lose speed at all, and were able to maintain their direction. "That's the wonderful thing about gyroscopes," Sonia taunted. "They never fall over!"

The bladed weapon turned once again and made its way back to Shareen, who was now finding herself dangerously short on options. She couldn't knock Sonia over, and if she tried another Storm Seal, her cards would merely get shredded again. It occurred to her that attacking Sonia was not the key to defeating her latest attack.

"I've got it!" she cried, flourishing her enchanted card. "You're mine this time! _Cyclone Seal_!"

As Shareen pressed her card into the floor, a barrage of them suddenly appeared underneath Sonia. They all pressed upward with the force of a hurricane's inner wall, and this caused the two wheels of the gyrosphere – particularly the horizontal one – to tip. With the balance of the contraption thus destroyed, Sonia could no longer keep her momentum, and she fell to the side. Her two bracelets shrunk back to their normal sizes and hovered around her until she got up.

"Damn… you're pretty good, girlie," she complimented. The diamond weapons returned to their positions on her left wrist and right ankle.

"You have no idea."

Shareen didn't give her opponent a moment to recoup. She lunged into action, intent on finishing the battle immediately. If Sonia was given any more leeway, she might begin to use even more dangerous techniques. Shareen could not let that happen; so, before Sonia even had the chance to realize what was happening, Shareen was upon her.

"What!" the shocked opponent cried as Shareen pressed a card against her left shoulder. "I can't… move my arm!"

Without responding, the ninja continued. She swerved around to her left, bringing her arm low and pressing another card against the right thigh. Wherever her card touched, an exact replica of it remained behind, while the real thing stayed in her hand. In this fashion, she paralyzed Sonia's other arm and leg, and finished by placing one more card directly on her stomach. Then Shareen leapt back a fair distance.

"I've just paralyzed every major muscle system in your body," she explained. Shard looked up in shock.

"Wait… you don't mean… you're using _that_ technique?" he gasped in disbelief.

Shareen did not respond. She folded her hands in a strange formation and glared at Sonia. "**Your life ends here… Life Seal: Omega!**"

In response to her words, the cards attached to Sonia's body began to glow and shimmer with a strange luminescence. The woman screamed horribly as she felt the very life being drained from her body, sealed into the cards to which she was bonded. After what seemed like an eternity of this hell, they faded into nothingness, leaving Sonia weakened and almost lifeless on the floor.

"Now you're coming with us!" Shareen ordered, stepping forward dominantly.

"That will be quite enough," a strange voice called from the darkness. Suddenly, out of the shadows, a strange man clad in a sinister black-cloth outfit emerged as if from thin air. He towered over Shareen, peering at her with his dark, listless eyes. Long, beautiful strands of black hair fell plainly over his shoulders to his thighs. "Sonia. You are to return with me now."

"But… Lucius…"

The man turned and gazed furiously at her. "The orders come from the mistress herself. Would you disobey our queen?"

Sonia tightened her fist and trembled. "N…no. Of course not. I will come with you."

Lucius smirked victoriously and returned his gaze to Shareen. "You must be very skilled to have defeated Sonia," he complimented. Sonia sneered in Shareen's direction at the sound of the word 'defeated.' She did not wish to acknowledge her loss. "I would very much like to test your power. But alas… I have my orders. You will live for another day at least. Come, Sonia."

The strange, pale man merely waved his hand and a portal of gaping blackness appeared behind Sonia. She stepped in first, disappearing into nothingness. Before Lucius disappeared, however, he turned and grinned maliciously at Shareen. "Do not disappoint me when next we meet." And then he was gone. The portal closed behind them.

"Believe me… I won't," she whispered, clenching her fist tightly.

"Who was that?" Audrey exclaimed weakly. She was now sitting up, and her wound had been treated with a makeshift bandage, although it pained her greatly.

"Another of the Black Five Sonia mentioned, I presume," noted Shard, helping the wounded girl to her feet. He sighed with disappointment and headed towards the door. "Come on. Let's get out of here. Our quarry is long gone by now."

"Bah," complained Bartheo as he supported Audrey against him. "I shouldn'ta held back."

Shard looked meaningfully at Shareen as she caught up with them, walking slowly and trapped in thought. His voice brought her out of her reverie. "When… did you perfect mother's technique?"

She looked at him and gave a nervous smile. "To be honest… I didn't realize I had. I wasn't sure it would work." Shard's eye twitched imperceptibly out of annoyance, and he looked about to say something rather scolding, but he decided against it when he realized that her gamble had won them the battle.

As the group wearily made their way out of the compound, they were somber as the realization came over them that everything they had done was for nothing: they had neither Sonia nor her superior for questioning. They were back at square one.

Little did they know that somewhere up above, something had occurred that would make it all worthwhile.

---

As the moon hung low in the sky, a white, horse-drawn carriage tore across the plains east of Kilika. Its coachman ordered the beasts to move faster and faster, only barely keeping the vehicle balanced. He didn't see the need for such expediency, but the orders had come from the owner of the carriage himself. Obedient as he was, the horsemen did not question such orders: he knew enough to simply nod his head and comply.

Inside the carriage, a familiar, older gentleman sat comfortably with his hands resting on his knees. He glanced at the figure sitting across from him, who was looking nervously out the window at the landscape zooming by. She played with her hair as the grass streaked by underneath; only at the sound of her companion's voice was she woken from her reverie.

"What is the meaning of this, Lucius?" the gentleman questioned. He was unhappy at the two of them having suddenly reappeared in his otherwise-quiet carriage. The tall, pale gentleman sitting beside Sonia did not even open his eyes to speak.

"There has been a startling turn of events this evening that require much consideration," he explained.

Sonia grasped tightly at her dress, looking both frustrated and nervous. She thought back to the fight with the Fujibayashis. She had clearly lost, though she didn't want to admit it; she had failed in her duties. The punishment for such failure among the Hand of Beatrix was both gruesome and painful. Sonia gulped at the thought of encountering it herself.

"Do not fear, Sonia," Lucius said after a time, still not even deigning to look at her. She started, pretending to wonder what he was talking about. "You will not be punished this time. After all, you did as well as could be expected against the companions of Fenrisulfr."

Sonia's heart skipped a beat at the very mention of that name. Fenrisulfr was a name known to anyone even remotely versed in the scriptures of Martel, but to none moreso than the Hand of Beatrix. "Fenrisulfr? But… that means…" The end of the world.

Lucius let out an amused huff and resigned himself to silence. The carriage plowed innocently through the night, unaware of the events that were about to unfurl.


	7. Stains of Darkness

**Tales of Harmonia**

**Stains of Darkness**

"What did you say!" Shard shouted at Raven as they exited the tavern. "The Pope? Here?"

Raven chuckled quietly and smoothly nodded his head. "That is indeed what I said. Apparently he ran by not long before you arrived."

"How do you know that?" Audrey inquired, looking curiously at her companion. "You couldn't have seen him yourself… otherwise you would have captured him, right?"

"Of course I would," retorted Raven, looking annoyed and perturbed. "That is my duty, after all. I only heard it from a group of people who happened to pass by the tavern a few minutes ago."

"Apparently," Genis cut in, "he looked quite flustered and wasn't wearing his traditional robes. The people only recognized him because they had seen him during one of his visits to the various towns and cities."

Shareen looked unconvinced as they walked. She crossed her arms and simply said, "It sound suspicious to me. But, if it was him, then I think we all know exactly what this means."

"Yes," Shard continued with a nod. "This is the direct link we were looking for."

Audrey nodded seriously and added, "In all probability, it is. There's only about a 0.01 chance that he was here for a reason completely unrelated to the Hand of Beatrix."

Shard stepped forward and clenched his fists, looking energetically towards the horizon. "Then let us return to base. We must strike while the iron is hot."

---

Back at the Fujibayashi house, things had become chaotic with the arrival of the party. Their announcement that the Pope had indeed been seen fleeing from Kilika was as close to proof of his connection with the Hand of Beatrix as they could hope for without interrogating him themselves – and that is exactly what they intended to do now, to dispel any conceivable doubt about his ties with them, or about his intentions.

With an air of excitement and merriment, the forces of Zephyr and Mizuho worked together to prepare for the journey. Having learned from their previous experiences, they were much more prepared for an infiltration of the Glass Cathedral now: they would go as a large group, and then several of them would break off to find and deter the remaining two members of the Papal Trinity, while the remaining members of the group would find and capture the Pope himself. Shard was designated to stay behind as the leader of the operation: he would be in contact with everyone through Shareen's Guardian cards, and he would call all the shots when it came to attacking and withdrawing.

With the preparations complete, the group sat around the table one last time to discuss the battle plan.

"I want to make one thing perfectly clear," announced Shard with an air of leadership and force. "When the Pope is in captivity, and I give the word, you will all withdraw immediately. We cannot risk fighting with the Papal Trinity for any longer than necessary – they are too powerful for that. Doing so would only cause unnecessary loss."

Everyone nodded in agreement. Most of them had seen the power of the Papal Trinity for themselves, and they knew that they would most likely not be able to defeat them outright. Furthermore, Halis and Marisa would probably be even more difficult opponents now that they knew what they were up against. The odds were, therefore, quite heavily stacked against the allied forces.

"We must now decide who will go where. There are seven of you, and so unfortunately I cannot evenly divide our forces," Shard explained. "I am inclined to send three of you to capture the Pope; there is the possibility that he will be attended to by Sonia, the strange man we encountered in his office, and possible the other members of the Black Five. There is more safety in numbers. Therefore, three of you – Juna, Shareen, and Arthur, I think – will go to capture the Pope, and—"

"Four of us. Don't forget about me," a voice interrupted. Everyone turned toward the stairs to see Aidan walking down, already dressed in the new suit of chainmail armor that had been given to him by one of Shard's attendants. The assistant had called it a "special" suit of armor, but did not explain how it was so. His spear was strapped to his back and he looked very ready for action.

"Aidan!" Juna called, standing up and looking both excited and happy. She rushed over to the stairs and helped him down, although he insisted that he didn't need any help. "So you're feeling much better, then?"

"Never felt better, actually," Aidan replied with a grin. He was still rubbing at his shoulder, but only Juna and Arthur seemed to pay any attention to that little habit.

"Aidan," Shard said with sobering solemnity, "please sit. There is something we must discuss with you."

Everyone exchanged grave glances immediately, knowing precisely what Shard meant. It was time to explain, once and for all, what had happened on the night that Aidan and Juna infiltrated the Hand of Beatrix base. The telling would not be pleasant, and it would definitely be a difficult story to take in, but it had to be done immediately. Shard gazed with heavy eyes at Aidan, took a deep breath, and began to speak.

---

"Oh, please!" Aidan exclaimed with an incredulous laugh. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

Juna looked up at him solemnly. "I know it's a lot to take in, but—"

"It's absurd, that's what it is!" Aidan interrupted. "People turning into werewolves… come on! That's the stuff of fairy tales."

Genis fixed a sobering, reprimanding stare on Aidan. "You can keep saying that, but it won't make it any less true," he pointed out. "We have told you what _has_ happened. Your denial is an expected response, but you will overcome it."

Aidan rolled his eyes, showing even slight disrespect towards Genis for the first time. "Be realistic. The werewolves are only mentioned in the scriptures of Martel. So I guess you think that, since I _supposedly_ transformed, the world must be ending, right?"

Nobody responded, except with uneasy stares at each other. When Aidan saw this, he cocked his head back and looked at them as though he was seriously reconsidering their sanity. "Guys… please tell me you're joking. You don't _actually_ believe that crap, do you?"

"That 'crap' is coming true right before our very eyes," Arthur pointed out with due annoyance. He fixed a cold stare on Aidan which made the boy feel unnerved, shifting uneasily in his seat. "Whether you like to believe it or not, everything the scriptures say is coming true very rapidly. The bruise on your shoulder is another sign of proof."

Instinctively, Aidan grabbed at his left shoulder and rubbed it through the chainmail. He didn't actually know that the pain in his shoulder was caused by the bruise in question, but somehow his hand felt drawn to it when Arthur mentioned it, as though he was covering up a hideous scar to avoid being ridiculed.

"B…bruise?" he asked in a shaky voice. "What bruise?"

"The crescent-moon shaped bruise on your left shoulder," answered Juna quietly.

"It is the mark of Fenrisulfr," Arthur continued.

Aidan looked agape with shock, and was suddenly very aware of his own heartbeat. He stared for a very long moment at Arthur, drifting in and out of the belief that this had to be a dream. Every logical inch of his being denied the accusations vehemently, but secluded shreds of him were considering the possibility that it was true.

"But… Fenrisulfr is…."

The truth was that Aidan knew _exactly_ who Fenrisulfr was. The White Wolf, defender of mankind and yet instigator of the War of Ends… Ragnarok. It was an impossible task for him to freely admit that he must be Fenrisulfr, the entity responsible for the end of the world according to the scriptures of Martel. Even considering the remote possibility of such seemed absurd – and far too traumatizing. Aidan rose from his seat and began pacing about the room.

"That's crazy… I didn't do anything… I mean… I can't have started the end of… no way!" He looked up with newfound resolve, but it dimmed almost instantly. "No way…. right?"

Juna stood up and moved over to him. She rested her hands on his shoulders. "It's not that we blame you for it, Aidan. This is the hand which Destiny dealt. But…. if you hadn't transformed, I – we – would likely be dead right now."

"But….!" Aidan's body was shaking fiercely with fright and astonishment. "But I don't remember any of it… that means I wasn't in control… who knows what might happen next time? The werewolves aren't all nice according to the scriptures… maybe I'll go berserk next time, and…"

Juna grasped tightly and shook his body back and forth in a wild attempt to snap him back to reality. "Aidan! Don't you dare say things like that! No matter what happens, you're still you!"

Arthur looked up from the table. "No matter what happens, you're still you…" he whispered to himself with a slight smile. "The Amended Verses… Lloyd Irving."

The words seemed to have a profound effect on Aidan. He looked into Juna's eyes like a frightened child staring into the powerful, reassuring eyes of an older friend or role model. For a moment, he appeared completely dazed – an understandable reaction, considering what his mind was now being forced to process. "I'm… still me…" he repeated incredulously. Juna nodded her head and smiled.

"You'll always be you. Just remember that… okay?"

Aidan nodded, stupefied, as Juna walked back toward the table. He stood alone for the remainder of the meeting, completely removed from their conversation as he wandered through his own tormented mind, trying to piece together the huge change that had been so unfairly thrust upon him.

---

It was a calm, clear night in New Meltokio as the shadowy band of abductors arrived on its outskirts. Once again, they were prepared to sneak into the town by any means necessary and capture the Pope. It would very likely be considerably more difficult this time: they had been captured once, and the Papal Knights would not be so oblivious a second time.

As they approached the city gates, the group was surprised to find that they had been left wide open. This was indeed a rare and strange occurrence: the Pope always ordered the gates shut after nightfall for the general safety of the city. Either there had been a colossal mix-up tonight, or other, more devious forces were at work.

"It's very likely a trap," Genis cautioned as they slipped through the open gates. "Be on your guard."

This was a given. They were now entering enemy territory, and each and every one of them was a marked target for the Papal Knights. This was a risk they had to take. Because they had acted quickly, it was very likely that the Pope was still in New Meltokio. This meant that he had to be captured as quickly as possible; otherwise, he might escape again and rendezvous with Hand of Beatrix members in some other part of the world. This was, then, an all-or-nothing mission, a last-ditch effort to validate all their efforts thus far.

The silence in the darkened city streets did more to unnerve the group than calm them. Although it meant they did not have to sneak around patrols of iron-clad knights, it was also highly suspicious, and had all the makings of a trap. Each of them felt as though he was a foolish bear following the trail of berries left by a skilled hunter – and each of them only wished he would be able to turn the tables on that hunter before it was too late.

When they reached the grand doors of the Glass Cathedral, Audrey leaned against the wall and looked suspiciously at her comrades. "I don't like this. We haven't seen _anyone_ since we've been here," she commented. "New Meltokio isn't exactly a party town, but there's usually _some_ night activity…"

"I agree," Juna said. "Especially considering the Pope has no doubt ordered the knights on high alert for us. It is possible that he imposed a curfew on the townsfolk, but why not send out the knights in force to keep an eye out for us?"

Deep inside, everyone knew the answer: the Pope was laying a very obvious, but very effective trap. It was one he knew they would step into, fully aware of the risks, because the benefits were too great to pass up. Unfortunately, as they were all too well aware, he had the complete home court advantage.

"Well, let's get moving," Arthur said after a time. "The secret passage is this way, and—"

"We won't be using that this time," Juna interrupted.

At Arthur's confused expression, Juna explained that, after their last foray into the cathedral, the Pope or the Papal Trinity very likely ordered the passageway to be either on heavy guard at all times, or they had it sealed up completely to avoid further mishaps. Of course, nobody else knew any other secret passages into the building, so it was decided that they would simply use the front doors. Under normal circumstances, this would seem a dangerous and foolish move – but these were not normal circumstances. They were fully willing to push the Pope's trap as far as it would go; it merely remained to be seen whether they could pull their hands out of the snare in time.

---

Some time later, the group had entered the cathedral and split up into their respective groups. Although they had prepared themselves mentally and physically for the gauntlet of battles ahead, none came; there was not a single knightly soul to be found in the Glass Cathedral, either. As Genis and Audrey made their way down the dark tunnels, lit only by the ominous moonlight through the transparent roof overhead, they had their weapons drawn and looked around every corner for even the faintest glimmer of silver armor.

There was none. Every room and hallway was completely empty. It was almost as though the Pope wanted them to come right to him… but that didn't make any sense. Surely he would only allow them to go so far before springing the trap. Letting them come directly to his chamber seemed foolish. Nevertheless, that is where Genis and Audrey headed.

The group's orders had been perfectly clear: split up into your designated groups, and take alternate paths to the papal chambers. Engage the Papal Trinity and hold them off for as long as possible if you encounter them; otherwise, find your way to the chambers and help in the abduction. Juna, Arthur, Shareen, and Aidan were to head directly to the chambers, while the other two groups were to follow an alternate path. However, there was always the growing sense of worry that the Pope had anticipated their maneuver, and would move to counter it swiftly and decisively.

Their task was made all the more difficult by the fact that no written blueprints existed of the Glass Cathedral. They had to maneuver based entirely on Arthur's rudimentary directions, and what they themselves had gathered from sending spies into the tours of the cathedral. The result was a fairly detailed, but by no means perfect, map of the cathedral and their planned routes. Genis and Audrey stuck to their carefully, keeping their eyes open for either of the members of the Papal Trinity that might try to thwart them.

"I'm getting nervous," Audrey commented as they rounded another corner. "According to this map, we're not far from the papal chambers. The Pope wouldn't let us get _that_ far, would he?"

Before Genis could answer, a disembodied voice broke the silence.

"An astute observation," it noted with a chuckle of amusement. Suddenly, a thin young man in a black, hooded cloak stepped forth from the shadows. He was immediately recognized as Halis, Judgment of the Papal Trinity. Pulling back his hood, the man revealed the wispy, crimson hair beneath. In his right hand, he held the ornate war-fan he had used against Genis in their last duel.

"Ah, it's that young upstart again," Genis taunted with an absentminded gaze. "Oh, what was your name again? Haley? No, that's more of a girl's name, isn't it…"

Halis looked unfazed by the insult. "You think you're quite something just because you won last time, don't you?"

Genis chuckled slightly and nodded his head. "I daresay I'm not too shabby."

Their opponent laughed coldly and threw the cloak back over his shoulders, allowing for full mobility. "Well then," he taunted, "since there are two of you… why don't we go best two out of three?"

Audrey grimaced and readied her ribbon. She didn't know exactly how she would combat someone like Halis. Genis had single-handedly dealt with him last time, but Halis seemed eerily confident in his abilities despite this. Also, her wound was still aching slightly, although Arthur had done a marvelous job of patching it up. Even magic cannot make a miracle out of mending bone and sewing flesh.

Genis took a step forward and brandished his kendama, looking with an interested glint in his eye at the confident opponent before him. "Very well. I wonder if you've learned from your previous failure," he considered.

Halis merely smirked, and powerful energy began flowing through his veins.

---

"I don't like this," Bartheo noted gruffly as he and Raven traversed the darkened hallways. His hands practically trembled, axes drawn, as they walked. "This place should be _crawling_ with knights for me to cleave asunder… where are they?"

"Patience," Raven advised as he continued walking. He had not even drawn his weapon yet, and was looking considerably less agitated than Bartheo was. They certainly made a strange pair: tall, handsome soldier walking alongside stocky, muscular warrior. "I have a feeling you'll have all the fighting you can handle before long."

"Oh, dear brother!" a voice called out into the darkness in a strangely sweet tone. The next words came much more harshly: "How right you are."

Both fighters spun around to see Marisa standing suddenly behind them. Her long katana was already in hand, and she appeared to be sizing them up with a lustful, excited look in her eyes. She already knew fully well what Raven was capable of, but Bartheo was a welcome surprise to her, and she seemed delighted at the opportunity to test his abilities against her own.

Raven grinned darkly at the sight of his sister. "Marisa," he said in welcome, stepping forward as if in greeting. She smirked right back at him. "What a pleasure to see you again."

"Oh, but the pleasure is all _mine_, dear brother," she noted menacingly. "That meddling old man spoiled my fun last time… but he's nowhere to be found tonight. You're all mine."

With axes in hand, Bartheo stepped forward and let out a barbaric growl. "Not quite!" he protested. "The odds are still not in your favour."

Marisa gazed down at the short warrior and grinned patronizingly at him. "I suppose you're right. But then I always did like a good handicap." Placing her weapon non-threateningly at her side, she turned and moved a few feet away before facing them again. "Well, the sooner I kill you, the sooner I can go deal with your wretched little companions in the papal chambers," she noted, eliciting a look of shock from her opponents. Did she really know about their plan already? "Shall we begin?"

It was not a surprise that Bartheo attacked first. He had been itching to feed his blades, and the slender woman in front of him looked to be the prime target. He lunged forward with arms outstretched, and when he reached her position, he brought them together like a vice in an attempt to cleave her about the waist.

Marisa was several times too fast for the obvious attack to have worked. Before the iron weapons got anywhere near her, she had leapt gracefully over Bartheo's head and was already bringing her katana around to separate his legs from his upper body. Only Raven's quick movements stopped her: he darted forward and interrupted the path of her blade with his own. Their eyes met briefly, then; his were focused and determined, hers were amused and excited.

When Bartheo regained his bearing and realized what had happened, he spun around and hopped back until he was out of range of her weapon. It was obvious to him that he would have to play this battle much more cleverly in order to make up for his disadvantage in speed. Therefore, he would let Raven distract her – she was more interested in him, anyway – and strike when she was in the proper position. Doing so was not the honorable fashion of killing that he preferred, but it was certainly desirable to an easy and painless death.

Several times, Raven's and Marisa's blades met with equal force, clanging against each other with a sound that rang through the glass tunnels. For a while, Bartheo could barely keep up with their movements. Eventually, his eyes adjusted to the speed, and he could just keep track of where they were at all times. This allowed him to get a useful look at Marisa's fighting style: she was rather careless and offensive like himself, and thus it would probably not be too hard to find an opening in her movements.

For a split second, Marisa became entangled in her opponent's attack, briefly stunned by his show of strength. In this split second, her vulnerable backside was exposed; and in this split second, Bartheo attacked. He leaped at Marisa and tensed his muscles in preparation for the attack. Again, she was much faster; somehow she had seen the movement directly behind her, and to counter it, she shifted her blade to one hand only, and thrust her left elbow behind her as she arched her body backwards. It connected firmly with Bartheo's stomach, knocking the wind out of him and sending him flying.

"What a little pest!" she exclaimed, turning and advancing upon the fallen warrior who was now stumbling to right himself and catch his breath. "If you're going to keep interfering –" she lifted the razor-sharp blade above her head "—I'm just going to have to eliminate you."

As the weapon fell, it was met with the force of Raven's own blade as he suddenly appeared in front of her. Bartheo was astonished by his speed; he had never seen him utilize the full extent of his abilities like this. Marisa fixed an annoyed stare on her brother and snarled.

"You're even more meddlesome than he is," she snapped, withdrawing her sword and stepping back. Once again, her lithe body turned towards her brother, and she ran her free hand through her deep purple hair. "I won't hesitate to kill you, brother. But I would so rather see you suffer by watching him die first."

Raven grimaced and tightened his grip on his katana. "Neither I nor he will die tonight; it will be your dark candle that is snuffed eternally."

At the very concept of death, Marisa let out a shrill laugh that resonated through the cathedral. "Is that so?" she mocked, waving her sword around in disbelief. "Well, I am impressed by your confidence! Show me that your bite is worse than your bark, brother."

The invitation was all too enticing for Raven. He brandished the weapon and lunged forward. "_Radiance Wave!_" he cried, spinning his body around once and lowering his blade. The sword grazed against the ground as he lowered it, and wherever it connected in the radius of his spin, a burst of white energy ushered forth in Marisa's direction.

The woman grinned and extended her left hand. A black, spherical barrier of energy appeared around her and absorbed the energy wave with little trouble. Although Raven's attack had failed, he did not stop; lunging forth, he swung and sliced at her, hoping to catch her off-guard in the wake of summoning her energy barrier. Marisa parried the first two attacks with her weapon, and then suddenly vanished and re-appeared behind Raven, causing his final two to hit thin air.

"Fool."

With blinding speed, the hilt of his sister's blade slammed into his back, connecting directly with the spine. "_Dark Spark!_" she cried at the moment of contact. _As_ pain ripped through his body, Raven collapsed to his knees. He found that, try as he might, he was not able to coordinate his movements and stand back up again.

"A shock like that is a trying thing for the nervous system," Marisa explained with a note of maliciousness in her voice. "It'll be a while before you can even stand up again, I imagine."

From his current position, Raven had a perfect, but helpless, vantage point for what Marisa did next. He looked on in horror as she advanced upon Bartheo, who had only just gotten his bearings back and was looking quite agitated. Once again the warrior flourished his axes and prepared to meet Marisa's attack. She stabbed at him with all the force she could gather in her right arm; with relative ease, he parried the attack, forcing the blade upwards by trapping it between his axes like a pincer.

The woman merely grinned at the attempt, however, and she wagged her left index finger at him, as though reprimanding him for something he had done wrong. That same finger directed Bartheo's eyes behind him. When he turned to look, he saw that a copy of Marisa was somehow standing behind him, with her blade poised to strike.

"Goodbye, friend of Raven."

Bartheo had no time to react: the biting steel ripped through his stomach and even pierced the Marisa standing directly in front of him; she merely dissipated into a wisp of shadow. The expression on Bartheo's face was stunned and in pain, but no words came to his mouth. Raven could only watch, wide-eyed and terrified, as blood trickled forth from the small but deadly wound.

With terrifying strength, Marisa hoisted her victim up with only one arm, still keeping him skewered on her weapon. The red liquid seeped out, dancing almost elegantly along the cold steel; it seemed to glimmer maliciously as though enjoying the feast of blood. Unable to move, Bartheo looked like an unfortunate rag doll that had been subject to an unfriendly owner. He was barely able to let out a grunt of pain as his life slowly trickled out of his body.

Raven was speechless. He tried with all his might to move – just to crawl forward an inch! – and attempt to stop this madness. But his nervous system was indeed too jarred by Marisa's attack, and he could not withstand the pain that every movement caused him. He therefore stood paralyzed, watching as his friend and companion was being killed before his very eyes.

"Say your last goodbyes," Marisa urged in a sweet, but dangerous voice. "Your life is now forfeit." And then, in a whisper: "Farewell."

Two concentric rings of energy, crossed over each other in the shape of an X, appeared around the blade, orbiting Bartheo's body. The black halos wavered slightly as though hungrily anticipating their next meal. Marisa twisted her wrist slightly, and the two rings of energy took it as a signal to close instantly. For a moment, Bartheo let out a scream of agony as the hoops of darkness squeezed the last life from his body. Then, as quickly as the rest of it had happened, his body dissipated into nothingness. Only the blood from his wound was left, pooling on the floor and trickling along the face of Marisa's blade.

"N….no!" Raven cried at last as he began to regain some of his previous mobility. Tears rolled from his eyes like rivers; they stained the marble floor and mixed with the blackening pool of blood.

"Yes…" Marisa said, barely above a whisper. She traced a finger along the flat of her blade to wipe off some of the blood, and then licked it off as though it were some kind of candy. "He's dead. And now you will die, too. Suffer as your agony consumes you… writhe in your remorse… and then let me free you of it all, brother." Stepping forward, Marisa pointed her blade at him. "Let me cleanse you of your guilt." She raised the weapon above her head, and grinned maliciously as she savoured his final moments.

---

Halis stood confidently before Genis and Audrey; both of them could _see_ as well as feel the horrible energy pulsating through and from his body. Despite the fact that Genis had defeated him in their last battle, Halis was not looking at all nervous. Quite the contrary: Genis had an expression of worry on his wrinkled face, as he was the most in tune with the energy Halis was emitting. It was raw, evil, and above all, powerful. It became clear to him that Halis had held back last time.

"You see it now," Halis taunted, grinning. "You see my true power. You see that you are no match for me, don't you?"

"I think you overestimate your abilities," Genis said as he tried to hide his grimace. Halis merely smirked.

"Let's find out, shall we?"

The young mage extended his right arm and stretched out his palm and fingers. Without warning, five darts of black energy erupted from his fingertips and began soaring through the air, directed at Genis with unparalleled speed. "_Ebony Dagger!_" he cried.

Just before the needles made contact with Genis' body, Audrey sprang into action with her ribbon; the red cloth wrapped itself around Genis to protect him from the attack. However, Halis had other ideas. He grinned broadly at the attempt and waved the war fan he was holding in his left hand. Directed by the instrument, the needles turned in mid-air and diverted their course around Genis, making a beeline for Audrey. Unable to react in time, the girl was hit squarely by all five daggers, which caused her to stagger backwards in pain.

"_His movements are much faster this time,_" Genis realized as he frowned and furrowed his brows. "_I can't match that kind of speed. I should be able to match his power, but…_"

"Match my power?" Halis said suddenly, erupting with laughter. Genis' eyes shot wide open. "You won't even come close, old man!"

"_What…? How did he know what I was thinking?_"

"I thought you'd never ask," said Halis with a tone of superiority.

"Wh…what's he talking about? Is he talking to himself now?" Audrey asked, fighting the pain coursing through her body and rejoining her comrade. To her, of course, it seemed like Halis was having a one-sided conversation with an invisible entity.

"Not quite," snapped Halis. "I can read your every thought, thanks to the gift of my mistress. I quite literally know every move you will make before you make it."

Both Genis and Audrey reeled backward at the thought of this. How could they possibly fight him if he could predict what they were about to do as they were about to do it? It would be difficult enough to react to his magic on its own, but he could also _predict_ how they would react to it, and then redirect his spells to adjust! It was like playing chess against a master who knew every possible move in advance.

"Hmph," Genis muttered, taking a firm grasp on his kendama. "So these are the handicaps upon which the young warriors of this era cling to? I am disappointed."

Halis smirked, running his hand through his wavy, crimson locks. "All's fair in love and war, as they say; and this is war, old man. Your outmoded code of chivalry doesn't apply here."

Genis chuckled quietly and stroked his beard. "It certainly seems that way. Ah, well; if you have the advantage of knowledge, we shall simply see who is supreme in the realm of power." He turned his head slightly towards Audrey, but kept his eyes on their opponent. "Are you ready?" The girl nodded, and Genis nodded to her in acknowledgement. "Let's begin then. May the merciless embrace of frost take thee… _Absolute!_"

Genis' voice quivered ominously in the air as he spoke the words, and an icy mist began to rise around Halis' feet. Their opponent was unfazed, however; he kicked hard against the ground and propelled himself into the air. "_Raging Mist!_" he shouted. Suddenly, the floor beneath him began to bubble, and the cold fog was replaced with superheated air. Once again directed by his war fan, this new mist snaked towards Genis and Audrey.

"_Damnit!_" thought Audrey, hopping backwards. "_I have to get above it!_" She aimed her ribbon towards the ground and it launched out, connecting firmly with the floor beneath her and propelling her into the air.

Halis was, as expected, one step ahead of her; as she rose, so too did the mist. "Foolish girl! Didn't you know that hot air rises?" Audrey admitted that in her instinctual reaction, she had not considered that; Halis had been using his war fan to direct the mist along the ground, so she had been lulled into the false sense that it could not rise up. It did, however, and she had no time to react before the scalding mist seared her skin and Genis'. Both of them let out a cry of pain and tumbled to the ground.

Genis' mind reeled as he tried to bring himself to his feet again. It was obvious that another direct assault like that would prove fruitless. With Halis' ability to read their thoughts, every attack would be rendered ineffective. However, Genis knew that Halis was young and, most of all, overconfident: this made him foolish. He felt certain that his opponent could be tricked in such a way that their victory would be aided.

"May the merciless embrace of frost take thee… _Absolute_!" he shouted, causing energy to erupt out of his kendama.

"That's certainly not going to work a second time, you old fool!" Halis noted with a laugh. He once again took to the air and summoned a mist of superheated air below him. Looking down, however, he was shocked to see a swirling pool of water gathering. "What's this!"

The rising geyser of water rushed up to greet him, cooling and dousing the heated mist as it did so. In his shock, Halis neglected to move out of the way of the spray, and it slammed hard into his body, forcing him upwards and slamming him into the ceiling with all the force of a high-pressure hose. His freefall and eventual thud on the ground were painful and damaging, but he was able to rise once more.

"Very clever," he admitted weakly, body trembling as it rose. "Pretending to cast one spell, so perfectly that your mind actually thinks you are, but actually casting another. Like a game of rock-paper-scissors. Perhaps I underestimated you."

"You should realize that even the most supposedly absolute defense has its flaws," Genis noted matter-of-factly.

Halis merely grinned, though. Genis knew why: he knew that it would not work a second time. The chain of elements would simply cycle through until one of them was forced to cast a spell that would put them at a disadvantage; whatever spell Genis pretended to cast, Halis would now anticipate what he would _really_ cast to counter his own spell; then Genis would figure out which spell to use to counter _that_, and so on. They were, in a sense, in a stalemate. Genis had hoped beyond reasonable hope that his one spell would finish it, but unfortunately that gamble did not pay out.

"You have forgotten one vital thing about me," Halis noted after a time in a maliciously confident voice. Genis looked up, startled. Was there really something he had failed to take into consideration? "The elemental cycle is not without its limits. There are ways to…." He paused for a moment, holding up his war fan; it pulsated with visible, black energy. "…transcend it."

"_Transcend…?_" Genis' mind raced as he tried to figure out what Halis could mean. He thought back to their previous battle; and then, suddenly, it struck him like a bolt of lightning. But by the time he realized it, it was too late.

"_Bloody Lance!_" Halis cried, slicing the air horizontally with his fan. A pentagram of darkness appeared underneath Genis, and he was petrified by it; four lances of raw energy appeared around him and lifted up into the air before descending rapidly upon him, slicing through his flesh; although they left no visible wounds, they had certainly done their damage. A final, larger spear appeared above, ready to bring its crushing weight down upon its old victim. Genis knew he would not be able to withstand it: Halis was indeed powerful, as he had claimed. He shut his eyes and braced himself for the end.

---

Back on the opposite side of the cathedral, Marisa stood threateningly over her brother, watching as his body quivered and shook from a mixture of pain and anguish. The corners of her mouth twitched into a malicious smile as she prepared for the end she had been so long waiting for. Suddenly, Raven spoke deeply in a low voice, as though he was struggling with the emotions inside himself.

"I always believed you were not beyond redemption," he said quietly, struggling to his feet. With considerable effort, he managed to stand upright, and placed a hand on the hilt of his blade. "I always believed that there was some good, something _human_ left in you. But it is clear to me now that the darkness has consumed you. Perhaps you _are_ beyond redemption."

Marisa's eyes twitched with shock. She took a step back and tightened her grip on her weapon. How could he be standing again, speaking at her with such steely resolve and determination? How could he not be an emotional wreck after seeing the merciless murder of his friend at the hands of his own sister?

"You said you wished to cleanse me of my guilt," Raven continued, looking up until his eyes met hers. Now they had reversed roles: his eyes were the cool, determined ones, and hers were nervous and shaken. Her body trembled imperceptibly. "There is only one way you can do so now."

Marisa couldn't keep track of her brother as he suddenly vanished. He had suddenly attained a speed that even she could not match. In the heat of the moment, the woman didn't realize that the voice came from behind her until it was too late.

"Die."

Marisa's eyes opened wide with shock as the word penetrated her ears from behind. She didn't even have time to turn her head to see the lithe, slender form of her armor-clad brother standing behind her, with his back to hers, long black hair flowing in an unfelt wind through the dark hallways. She was absolutely outmatched; there was no time to react. He began by bringing his elbow firmly into the center of her spine, causing her to stumble forward in pain. Continuing the attack, Raven spun and slammed into her with his left leg; she fell forward even more, this time losing her balance.

Before she could fully tumble to the ground, however, Raven darted underneath her and caught the front of her body against the hilt of his blade. He thrusted hard, and the uppercut sent Marisa flying into the air towards the high ceiling of the cathedral. Then he let her fall, with a tidal wave of pain rushing through her body as it connected with the floor, battered and broken after the drop. She could barely scramble to her knees to watch her brother as he stood over her.

"You are beyond redemption, sister; but I will release you from your darkness."

With blinding speed, Raven leapt backwards and held his katana high over his head. "**May the Goddess accept you into Her embrace…** **Seraph Blade!**"

He darted forward again, and although he was moving almost impossibly fast, for Marisa, the scene unfolded in slow motion. She watched as her brother ran toward her, blade held high. In those final moments, she thought she saw an angelic aura surround his body, and as he leapt high into the air, taking the weapon in two hands, she was certain a pair of ethereal white angel wings were unfolding majestically from his back.

There was a burst of white-gold energy at the apex of Raven's leap, and his katana began to glow. Then, as he fell, he brought the weapon hard over her head. Another explosion of white energy occurred as the force of his purity clashed with the unholy darkness within her. Raven was clearly the superior, however; Marisa let out a weak scream as her body was engulfed by the pure light.

In the last moments that Raven could feel Marisa's body fading away, he took a solemn expression and whispered, "Goodbye, sister…"

---

Elsewhere, Aidan, Shareen, Arthur, and Juna's plan was going successfully. They had progressed quickly and quietly through the Glass Cathedral without hindrance, and they were now approaching the doors to the papal chambers. At the end of the grand, carpeted hallway, the huge wooden doors stood before them. Each of them knew that, soon, all their hard work would come to its fruition at last.

"Almost there… I can't believe it's almost over," Aidan said, just above a whisper.

"Yeah…" agreed Juna, crossing her arms. "But it all seems too easy, don't you think? Where have the so-called Black Five gone to? I would have expected at least some of them to guard the Pope…"

Aidan shrugged his shoulders and continued forward. "Who cares? We should be thankful they _aren't_ here. Makes things a hell of a lot easier for us."

"I agree!" chimed in Shareen cheerfully. "If the Black Five were to appear, it would be five on four, and we already know that just _one_ of them is more than a match for all of us."

Juna looked about to say something, but she silenced herself and merely hoped that they were right. As they reached the door, Aidan extended his arms and prepared – not without undue hesitation – to open it.

"Stop!" a female voice ordered from somewhere behind them. Together, the group turned to see a strange, thin woman. She had somehow materialized directly behind them; they were certain she had not been following them earlier. She was fairly attractive: tall and thin; long, straight black hair; and penetrating hazel eyes adorned her features. She was somewhat pale, however, and dressed in a strange-looking black, leather outfit that revealed considerable flesh. Shareen realized that she looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't pinpoint the resemblance.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Juna ordered, stepping towards her.

"I cannot allow you to go in there," the woman replied. Her tone was not so much an order as a plea.

"Oh, so you're one of the Black Five, huh?" Aidan concluded. He stepped forward and gripped his spear in both hands. The woman looked shocked; she shook her head vehemently.

"No! I'm no—"

"We were wondering where you scum were hiding," continued Aidan, not giving her a chance to speak. "Look, whoever you are, you _aren't_ going to stop us when we've come so far. We're going in there."

The stranger sighed and adopted a strange, meditative stance as though collecting her thoughts. "Very well," she said quietly, tightening her fists and assuming a battle-ready pose. "If you will not turn back… _I_ will turn you back."


End file.
